Battle of Evermore
by SharpShooter-Pony
Summary: Sam thought he was getting a taste of normal, but hidden beneath the multiple hunts, John Winchester has a different purpose in Columbus, GA. One that could turn his eldest son against him. Pre-Series
1. Flirtin' With Disaster

Battle of Evermore

Sharp Shooter - Pony

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Prologue; _Flirtin' With Disaster_

**Disclaimer; I own nothing.**

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Tree branches whipped across his face, caught on the ripped knees of his jeans, but he didn't notice. He'd been chasing the damned thing since the parking lot, and he was determined to catch up. The parking lot … Dean was still there, bloody and only half conscious. Damn demon. If only he'd known, they could have been more prepared. _No time for thinking, have to get it._ His eyes strained in the darkness to see the figure of the possessed man running in front of him, spotting him not too far ahead on the trail. If it would just break its stride for a mere second he could reach it - there was his chance! He tackled the demon to the ground before it could even straighten itself from the fumbled it made over a fallen tree limb.

"Got'cha, bastard!"

The demon groaned under his weight, but still managed a strained laugh. "Thought you'd never catch up, Johnny."

He ignored the comment. Keeping one arm locked around the demon's neck, he used the other to reach into his back pocket and pull out a flask of holy water. It wasn't until the demon hissed with pain at the touch of the stuff that John Winchester let a smile cross his face. "Guess you thought wrong." Not missing a beat, he started right into Latin chant.

The demon writhed beneath him, just managing to spit out the words," I wouldn't do that."

John faltered, pausing in the middle of the memorized exorcism ritual. This wasn't the first time a demon had tried to persuade him to stop mid-chant, but the way this one spoke, it sounded like it meant business. John humored it," And why's that?"

"Got a friend in Georgia, knows a thing or two 'bout you wife."

"You sonuvabitch." John gritted his teeth, pressing down harder on his shoulder so it dug into the demon's wind pipe enough to cause it pain without doing too much damage to the possessed body. "Do you think that's gonna get you out of this? You got a one way ticket back to hell, so if I were you, I'd shut the hell up."

The demon wheezed as it continued to talk, ignoring John's warning," Sh-she can do something … Something about your wife."

John started chanting again. He barely heard the demon's final pleas to be released; anger pulsing through him so much all he could focus on was the words to the exorcism. The words, being said through clenched teeth, finally ended, and a gush of smoke rushed out of the body the demon had been possessing, black hatred disappearing in a cloud, screaming painfully as it went. John watched it leave, than got off of the man who was now shaking and questioning 'what the hell is going on'. John led him out of the woods, calming him along the way and only half explaining what had happened to him and what had been inside him.

When they reached the parking lot, John made sure the man made it safely to his car. He then got into his own car, checking on Dean, who was sprawled across the back seat, and who managed to flash a thumbs-up sign at John. With everyone essentially okay, John took off down the road, headed back to the motel where Sammy was waiting for them to return.

All the while, John's one thought was – Georgia.

He spent that night, after patching Dean up and making sure he didn't have a concussion from the impact with the black top earlier, planning and researching. He spent the next two days doing just about the same, until he felt prepared enough, and sure enough about what he was heading into, to tell his boys they were hitting the road again.

Dean was driving right now, something John only let him do because he needed some shut eye, but found his mind still stuck on what he was going to do. _For you Mary, I'll do it._ He just hoped he was making the right decision.

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**A/N:** So? Good, bad? Let me know either way.


	2. Can't Drive 55

Battle of Evermore

Sharp Shooter - Pony

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Chapter One; _Can't Drive 55_

**Disclaimer; I own nothing.**

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The sun, what a bitch it could be. It sucked as Sam tried shielding his eyes from its bright rays, still groggy from sleep and not wanting to get up yet. But from the muffled voices he heard outside his mobile bedroom it was probably a useless battle trying to go back to sleep, Dean and Dad were already up and about and probably impatient to get back on the road. Why should he be deprived of his sleep just because the two of them were hyper active and always had to be moving? Really, why should anyone be deprived of sleep? If it's good for a person to sleep, why couldn't the work and school day just start later? Of course, that wouldn't be a problem if the person just went to bed earlier, instead of staying up all night reading by the means of a flashlight …

"Wakey, wakey!"

"No, not yet …. Too … Too tired … "

The protests went unnoticed, as usual. Instead of pulling out of the back seat of the Impala, like his little brother wanted, Dean continued to poke and prod at the body curled on the black leather seat. Dean didn't stop until he found just the right spot, right under Sammy's ribcage. There was a pause, and Sam thought his brother might just leave, but than the attack began. Sam nearly wet himself from the tickling, but choked out a pee plea through his laughter that made Dean stop.

"God, you can't even control your bladder through a little tickling?" Dean asked standing to the side with his arms folded smugly as Sam unfolded himself from the car. "Can't imagine what woulda' happened if I body slammed you like I had planned."

Sam glared at his brother. "Dude, you would've hit your head on the car is what woulda' happened."

"Sure, Sammy, sure."

Sam ignored him, too focused on making it into the woods and behind a tree safe without messing his new jeans. Through only half awake eyes he managed to find a tree that seemed to be poison ivy free, and unzipped his pants to do his business.

From where he was standing, Sam could just make out the top of the Impala, which had become the Winchester's sleeping quarters for three days now. Just looking at the fourth member of his family made Sam's body ache, thoughts of uncomfortable sleeping positions coming to mind. Up until a few months ago this arrangement would have been no trouble for them, Dad and Dean would recline their seats enough to be fairly comfortable, and Sam would stretch out across the backseat. But Sam had a growth spurt, and now sleeping on the backseat left him aching all over from being crammed into such a small space.

Not that he was complaining, because he was sure his father and brother felt similar pains, but he was eagerly looking forward to finishing their cross country trek and checking into a motel or cabin with a nice, comfy bed waiting for him. Sam was also looking forward to getting some space away from Dean. As much as he loved him, his big brother was really starting to get on his last nerve. And as for his father … Well, the two of them hadn't really been on agreeing terms for a great length of the trip, so it went without saying that Sam would be glad to get away from him.

When he was finished, Sam went loping back to the Impala. He noticed Dad resting against her hood chewing on a granola bar. Dean was at the opposite end of the car, probably searching for anything but a granola bar to have for breakfast. They were pretty low on funds though, so he doubted Dean would find anything else. Sam didn't give a second's thought before going in the direction of the trunk to be in company with Dean, but paused mid step when he caught Dad watching him. They exchanged glances, and to Sam it seemed like maybe Dad wanted him to come over and stand next to him, but he couldn't be sure, so instead he kept walking in the direction of Dean. Besides, Sam needed to get something to eat, too. Right?

"Damnit, another freakin' granola bar breakfast." Dean gave up on his search, extracting two of the afore mentioned bars from the trunk. "Y'know, for once I'd like to just wake up in the morning, roll out of bed, and sit down for a homemade breakfast!"

Sam took one of the bars from Dean and leaned on the trunk next to him. "What kind of breakfast?"

"Y'know, one of those homemade breakfast," Dean said, shrugging like everyone knew what made up one, because truth be told, he didn't know exactly what a 'homemade breakfast' called for.

"Like with pancakes and eggs, and sausage and bacon?"

Dean grinned. "Yeah, that kind of homemade breakfast!"

After taking a bite out of the granola Sam could understand why his brother was having such a problem with it. The same bland taste morning after morning … His dad's voice droned in his head," Food's food, if it keeps you running, that's all that matters." _Says you._

Sam nearly jumped when Dad's actual voice sounded from behind him.

"Get ready to go, boys, we need to be in Columbus by noon." Dad's low voice had a hint of annoyance to it.

"Why do we have to be there by noon?"

Dad hesitated; still not used to being questioned about every move he made, but answered Sam curtly, "Job interview."

Those two words were enough to make Sam smile. If Dad was going to a job interview, that meant they'd be staying in Columbus for a while, and although Sam wasn't so sure if he liked Georgia, he could definitely get used to it if it meant he got the chance to live somewhere for more than a month. And if they were living here longer, maybe they would actually rent a place - A home.

Dad watched, a look on his face like he was trying to figure out his youngest son, but than regained his no nonsense air and ordered Sam and Dean to get in the car. "Yes sir," was their dual answer. Dad nodded approvingly, before turning and walking around to the driver's side and getting into the Impala.

Sam started for the backseat, but Dean grabbed the arm of his jacket to stop him.

"What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

Dean squinted his eyes at Sam, knowing he was playing dumb. Sam was saved from any further interrogation though, their dad revving the engine, telling them to get a move on. The two jumped into their seats, just barely making it inside the Impala before their father tore off down the dirt road.

It made Sam kind of nervous that Dean caught every emotion he felt, even the briefest sign of excitement, but it wasn't like he'd done something wrong. He just wasn't going to explain to Dean why he was happy. _I'm so not getting called a pansy again by him. _Memories of the last Sam had shared some of his deeper thoughts with his older brother came back to him and he grimaced. Not good times. He hurried to direct himself by staring out the window at passing cars and landscape.

-SN-

Columbus' first greeting to the Winchesters was in the form of a speeding ticket. They roared into the city blasting Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll", the three occupants of the Impala for once all in good spirits and rocking out to the music together. It was one of the sheriff's who caught the classic muscle car going twenty miles over the speed limit, the eldest Winchester for once forgetting to check the area for cops. He'd followed them for nearly half a mile before Sam broke off from playing the air guitar and noticed the flashing lights and siren.

"Crap," Sam said, looking away from the cruiser to his dad," Dad, cop."

Dad let out a muffled curse before slowing the Impala down and edging her off to the side of the road. He turned the music down, something that caught Dean's attention right away. He'd been in his own Led Zeppelin filled world, and now looked around to see what was going on, muttering a curse of his own when he spotted the police officer parked behind them.

The sheriff tapped on the driver's side window, and waited until Dad rolled down the glass to speak, "Sir, do you realize how fast you were going?"

Dad nodded. "Yes sir."

"And you realize you were going nearly eighty miles per hour when the speed limit on this road is fifty-five?"

"No, I didn't realize that, sir."

"Really." The sheriff squinted against the morning sun to see inside the car, peering at Sam and Dean as he spoke," Well I suggest you pay attention from now on. I'm going to need to see some ID and registration, and than I'm going to write you up a ticket."

"Yes sir." Dad kept his ex-marine façade of unemotional seriousness up as he reached into his wallet and pulled out his driver's license along with taking the Impala's registration papers from Dean, who'd already fished them out of the glove compartment. "Here you go, sir."

The sheriff was obviously irritated with the crisp words, and snapped off a sharp 'thank you' before retreating to his cruiser with the license and papers. Sam wasn't surprised that this was their introduction to the city's people; his family seemed to attract negative attention from the police and other forms of authority. Of course, it was Dad's fault, he was speeding. And it didn't help he was acting like an -

"Asshole."

Dean sat with his arms crossed, angry over their interruption. Sam could see the irritation rising in his older brother, the muscles in Dean's jaw going tight as he watched the sheriff slowly look over Dad's license and the Impala's papers. Dean and figures of authority didn't mix well, another reason Sam figured the Winchesters had problems with them, and he bet Dean wouldn't miss a chance to mouth off to the officer, probably starting a whole other mess. The thought of even more trouble made Sam sit up straight in his seat. He couldn't help the anxiety, he was so close to having a home for more than a week or two – if Sam could just stop the issue before it occurred, then they'd be okay.

"He's just doing his job, Dean."

He regretted his choice of words. Sam had succeeded in diverting the anger away from the sheriff, but now Dean and Dad were staring back at him like he'd just betrayed them. He was sure one of them would have gone into a long spiel, probably Dean since he did most of Dad's talking, about family sticking together and etcetera and etcetera, but the sheriff came back before one of them could start.

The sheriff handed Dad's ID and the registration papers back through the window, along with Dad's ticket. "Here you go, sir. Maybe if you can't think of your own children's lives when it comes to the consequences of breaking the law, this ticket will help to show you." He turned smartly on his heels and started back for his cruiser.

Dad let the comment slide. It was a rare occasion when his father let someone insult him, but Sam figured Dad was too focused on getting to the interview on time to start an argument. The radio was turned back up as the Impala took off down the road again; her speedometer slowly rising to 70 once the sheriff was out of sight. With Led Zeppelin blasting in his ears once again, Sam relaxed into his seat. The comfortable feeling that had been in the car before was gone because of the comment he made, but he could deal with that, it wasn't like he was used to it anyways.

He drifted off into a daydream of what their house would look like, and what his school would be like, and the friends he was going to make.

It wasn't until the Impala stopped in front of a Chevy gas station with a garage connected to it that Sam was brought back to reality. He followed his father and brother out of the car. Dad motioned with his head for him and Dean to go ahead and take a seat on a bench outside the garage while he went inside.

"It might take a little while; if you get hungry you can walk down to the Burger King. Stay together, and don't leave otherwise," Dad ordered, before disappearing inside the building.

The brothers took their seats on the bench, making the flimsy wood object creak under their weight. Dean was watching the passing cars while Sam started hungrily at the Burger King sign just visible from down the road. He stole a glance at his older brother, wondering why Dean wasn't already leading them to the fast food joint.

"Are we gonna go?" Sam finally asked, his stomach's loud growling accompanying his voice.

Dean continued to watch the cars. "Go where?"

"To Burger King."

"Nah."

Sam's eyes widened and he could swear his hunger increased ten fold at the response. Why would his brother deny him food? Let alone; deny himself food, because Sam knew Dean was starving just as bad as he was. "Why?" He asked indignantly, eyes glued to Dean.

Dean gave a facial shrug. "Don't have any money."

"But, I thought you had a five left?"

"Nope."

"What happened to it?"

"It got spent."

"How?"

"Remember your snack at the gas station?"

Sam's mouth formed an 'o'. Why hadn't he thought of that before? The food Dean had gotten him earlier when he had complained of not having enough breakfast had to have been bought with money, money his dad wouldn't have offered up, so of course it had to come out of Dean's pocket. Now Sam felt like a total jerk, Dean couldn't eat now because of him. If Sam had just been patient –

Dean nudged his shoulder breaking his train of thought. "Hey, don't worry about it, kiddo. I can go get us something from that convenient store across the street."

When Dean said he could 'go get them something from the convenient store,' Sam knew that meant he was going to steal the food. He would have protest, the act of stealing going against his personal morals, but than Sam's stomach spoke again. It was Sam's Conscience versus Sam's Stomach and only one could win. Eyes downcast, Sam's stomach won out, and he gave Dean an approving nod.

"Sit tight, don't talk to strangers," Dean said, getting up from the bench. He knew he was disobeying a direct order from his father, but he figured if he was quick it would be okay. He could keep an eye on Sam from the store anyway; he could spot any potential threats before they even got close to his little brother.

"'K," Sam answered, reassuring Dean that he'd heard, even if it was the same command he always gave and it had been drilled into Sam's head enough for him to know already.

Ten minutes passed and Dean hadn't emerged from the convenient store yet. Sam was starting to get nervous, if their dad came out and found Dean missing, it would be both their butts to pay, and at the moment Sam didn't feel much like getting chewed out. He glanced anxiously between the garage and the store. Just as Sam heard his father's voice coming out of the back office and into the garage, Dean came waltzing out of the convenient store. Sam waved him over urgently.

"What took ya' so long?" Sam hissed as Dean took his place beside him on the bench again," Another minute and Dad woulda' caught us!"

Dean gave an annoyed huff. "Damn lady working there was following me around, like I was going to steal somethin'!" He exclaimed indignantly, even as he started to pull Oreos and a pack of Combos from his jacket," Can you believe the nerve of some people?"

Sam broke into a grin. If they weren't so busy learning how to hunt and kill supernatural beings, he was sure his older brother would be an actor. He could tell a person he was the Easter bunny and they'd believe him. Heck, Sam lived with the guy and Dean could still fool him! Of course, Sam's skills at acting (more like lying, really) were getting to be just as natural, but he'd yet to trick Dean.

"Here," Dean's voice broke him from thought, as his brother held out the half eaten Oreo packet," Have something healthy."

Sam took the package, popping one of the cookies into his mouth whole. He chewed and swallowed, a satisfied 'mhmm' escaping his lips as he reached for another one. "I like eating healthy."

They finished off the food quickly and shoved the remaining trash under the bench before their dad appeared with a grime covered man behind him.

"Boys, car," Dad ordered, Sam and Dean rising to attention at his presence and then heading off towards the Impala.

The man who had come outside with Dad gave an appreciative whistle when he spotted the Winchester's car. "Nice wheels you got there, John," he smiled through his thick country drawl," If I hadn'ta hired you already, I would've now."

"Thanks," Dad said, always glad to get a compliment on his baby. As he turned to admire his car alongside his new boss, he noticed his sons waiting, Sam shifting from foot to foot anxiously. He stuck his hand out. "Well, I'll see you on Friday, Jack."

Jack shook Dad's hand, smile still present on his face. "See ya' then."

The Winchesters loaded into the Impala, Dad's boss watching them leave before ducking back inside the garage. Sam stared out the window as they drove passed the Burger King, still feeling hungry, but tore his eyes away so he wouldn't start drooling. Deep Purple drifted through the car, the volume low, with Dean humming absently along. Sam listened, enjoying his brother's voice more then Ian Gillian's, while watching the city of Columbus pass by. He wasn't sure on how they were going to burn the rest of the day's light, probably looking through newspapers to find local houses, apartments, and trailers for rent, before Dad and Dean headed to the bar to make some cash. That plan didn't seem too bad, but really, any plan that didn't involve drills and studies for hunting sounded great to Sam. Yep, today would be a real 'lax day, just the way Sam liked it.

"Dean, get the map out for Columbus and find the library, we need to start doing research on the job."

Or not.

-SN-

"Master of puppets I'm pulling your strings-"

"Dean?"

"Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams-"

"Dean!"

The middle Winchester hurried to lower the volume on his walkman, all the while giving Sam an incredulous stare. His little brother used a wide eyed expression to wordlessly communicate to Dean that he was being too loud and embarrassing himself and Sam. Dean grinned and turned Metallica's 'Master of Puppets' back up to the loudest his walkman allowed, enjoying the ticked off look Sam continued to give him.

Sam let out a huff, but grudgingly turned back to the documents Dad had left him and Dean to look over, though he was the only one reading over them. _This would go a lot faster if you didn't ditch us, Dad._ Sam grumbled to himself as he turned over another page.

"Excuse me," Sam looked up from the paper he'd been skimming over to find a rather robust woman leaning over their table," But could you please turn down your music? It's disturbing the peace."

She said 'disturbing the peace' in a threatening manner that told both Winchester boys she wouldn't have second thoughts about on calling the authorities because of Dean. He hesitated, considering putting up a fight, but complied and turned his music down muttering 'sure, lady.' The woman, a librarian assistant, seemed content with Dean's actions and left to go patrol the rest of the tables in the large library.

Sam took the opportunity while Dean was distracted from his music to shove the rest of the pile of papers at him. "Here ya' go, metal head," he said while pushing himself out of his chair.

"Where're you going?" Dean asked dubiously.

"To get some info on the local high school, get the phone number for Dad."

"But school doesn't start for another week!" Sam ignored him and hurried off to another part of the library, leaving Dean alone to roll his eyes. "Nerd ..." He muttered, before turning wary eyes on the stack of papers that needed looking over.

Sam ignored his older brother, instead focusing on the task of getting to the circulation desk at the front of the library and asking someone there for the high school's number. Unfortunately for Sam, staying focused in a building full of books was impossible. He became side tracked by the Native American section, and spent a good half hour looking through some of the books before heading on his way again. He'd need to ask about getting a library card, too, some of those books had been really interesting.

Lost in the beliefs of the Cherokee people, Sam didn't see the girl who stepped out from an aisle of the library until it was too late, and they collided into each other. His reflexes kicked in fast enough for him to grab the girls arm and balance both of them out before they hit the ground, though he didn't save the pile of books the girl had in her arms in time. They hit the floor with resounding thuds, drawing the attention of some other occupants of the library.

Sam ignored them, hurrying to gather the scattered books, all the while apologizing. "I'm really sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"No problem," The girl said, bending down to help collect the large novels she'd been about to check out. "Nice move, though."

"Thanks," Sam answered with a grin, eyes meeting with the girls for a split second, before he straightened up and found himself having to look down at her while handing the pile of books back over. "I'm Sam, by the way."

She took the books, and despite her small size and the weight of the books seemed to have no difficulty carrying them. "I'm Lori." She tucked some of her loose red hair behind her ear. "Nice moves, Sam, how'd you catch me so fast?"

"My dad's an ex-marine," He said matter-of-factly, not thinking for a second she might not understand the connection.

Lori nodded, a teasing smirk playing at her lips. "Ah, the son of a jarhead," She said, but at the confused look Sam gave her, she added," My dad's stationed at Ft. Benning, with the Army."

"Ah, the daughter of an Army dog."

Lori gave an amused chuckle, but after glancing down at her watch her face turned serious again. "Well, my dad would kill me if I was late because I was talking with a Marine's kid, so I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, sure," Sam said, trying not to think of the high possibility he probably would never see Lori again. He brushed the thought off; instead focusing on getting the high school's phone number and getting back to Dean before his big brother came searching for him.

He had just gotten the number and was thanking the librarian who'd looked it up for him, when he was suddenly struck with a coughing fit. He waved off the woman when she asked him if he was okay, too distracted by the tears stinging at his eyes from the lung that was obviously trying to come out through his throat. Talk about embarrassing, Sam just couldn't stop making scenes in the library. He hurried back to the table he'd left Dean at, eyes intent on the floor and not looking up even when he was seated next to his brother again.

"What's up? You get the number?"

Sam just nodded, his throat still feeling sore.

Dean narrowed his gaze, checking his brother over for any signs that would explain Sam's sudden silence. "What, the librarian didn't try to give you her phone number, did she?" That got a response out of him. Sam's face went a nice shade of pink and he gave Dean a punch on the arm, which Dean returned and started a competition to see who could punch hard enough to make the other give up.

Dean was aiming his blows on the same spot over and over, and Sam was about to call uncle, when their father's baritone halted the game. Sam was silently grateful; Dean didn't need another win inflating his ego any more and Sam didn't want to give him anything more to tease him about. Since Dean had finished going through the rest of the documents, they were able to leave, Dad quizzing them on what they'd gone over. It wasn't until they finished answering his questions and the occupants of the Impala had fallen silent, that Sam thought to ask where there father had been.

"Hey Dad, where were you?" he asked nonchalantly, keeping all curiosity out of his voice. It didn't always guarantee an answer, but nonchalant gave a better chance than curious.

Dad stiffened at the question. "If you needed to know I would have told you," He snapped, an undertone to his words telling Sam to drop the subject.

And Sam would have, really, but didn't he deserve to know where his father had been and why he got to skip out on doing research? "No you wouldn't. C'mon, Dad; I just want to know where you went."

"It's none of your business," Dad said, hands gripping the steering wheel harder then necessary," Now shut it, Sam."

"Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" Sam asked, annoyed now with his father's refusal to answer him. Why couldn't he give some explanation?

"Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" Dad shot back.

Sam crossed his arms defiantly. "Because you left me and Dean to do all of the research."

Dad's mouth opened to reply, but before he could get any words out, Dean's hand shot out to turn the volume up on the radio. He looked between his dad and brother with a huge grin. "Dude, this song is awesome!" He exclaimed before he started singing along.

But that didn't make any sense, because the song playing was 'Money' by Pink Floyd, and if there was ever a classic rock band Dean didn't like, it was Pink Floyd. Sam was so puzzled by his brother that he forgot he was irritated with Dad, and for the time the tension in the car was lifted.

The next ten minutes to the motel the Winchester's would be staying at until they had money to rent a place flew by and Sam was glad. As soon as the Impala was parked, he jumped out, grabbed his bag from the trunk, and ran into the room Dean had just unlocked. He had to pause and take in the 70's theme of the room for a moment before he unceremoniously dropped his duffel at the foot of the bed closest to the bathroom. That was the best bed to get, as he'd have first dibs on the bathroom in the morning and could take as long in the shower as he wanted without the hot water going out on him.

Sam bent down to untie his shoes, only to feel the toe of a boot connect with his ass the next second, setting him off balance. He tilted forward, nearly fell on his face, but managed to straighten himself up and glare around, searching for whoever kicked him. To his surprise, he found only his dad in the room, Dean outside grabbing a bag of salt. So, either Dean hightailed it out of there or … Dad? But, Dad never had time to mess around with him or Dean, he was too serious for that, or was he …?

His question was answered when Dad looked up from his duffel, a small smirk on his face. Sam realized the action was his dad's way of calling a truce. That was fine by him, as long as Dad didn't try ditching them again.

Dean came into the motel room, arms loaded with the salt and a bag full of various weapons and protective items. He had to do a double take at the mutual exchange of peace that Dad and Sam were sharing, but he wasn't going to ruin the mood by taking note of it out loud, the other two members of his family had too much pride for that, and instead settled on just feeling relieved.

"Well," Dad cleared his throat as an awkward silence took over. "I'll go get us some chow."

"When you come back will you tell us that story about you and Deacon in Vietnam, when you had to wrestle with that psycho axe guy?" Dean asked, emerald eyes lighting up at the idea.

Dad shrugged. "Will see."

"Oh and what about the one with the big foot you saw?" Sam added while untying his shoe laces, this time seated on the bed so his backend was protected from attack.

"Yeah, okay," Dad agreed, before grabbing up the keys he'd placed on the small table next to the door and left.

The day ended in a light mood, only briefly disrupted when Sam and Dean were forced to compile some of the interesting things they'd found early at the library, and had forgotten to write down there, in Dad's journal, but for the Winchesters, that was still a good ending for the day. Or, at least the ending of the day for Sam. He was fast asleep in his bed, pistol hidden in the nightstand drawer beside him, when Dad and Dean left to make some money at a bar they'd spotted close by. But with all the protection his dad insisted on, Sam was safe inside the motel room by himself for a couple of hours.

Or was he?

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**A/N:** Lame ending, I know, I know. Just pretend it holds deep suspense?

Okay, just a little info before I pack up this show until i post the next chapter ... next week, same day? Sound good? Great. So, anyway, I'm going to (try to) update this weekly, as long as school and family allow. I'd love to hear any of your comments on the story thus far, and anything else you have to say. And, if anyone is up to it, I'd love a beta.

Well, until next Wednesday?


	3. Meet Me On The Corner

Battle of Evermore

Sharp Shooter - Pony

* * *

_Chapter Two - Meet Me On The Corner_

**Disclaimer; I own nothing.**

* * *

"Sammy? Hey, earth to Sam, anyone in there?"

Sam blinked, bringing the room back into focus. He looked away from the disco ball dangling from the center of the ceiling he'd been staring at to his brother, who was waving a hand in front of his face. _What was I doing again?_ Sam furrowed his eye brows, than spotted the papers on the table in front of Dean. _Oh, that's right._ How could he blank out like that when they were filling out forms for school?

"Sorry, go ahead."

Dean gave him a questioning look. "Am I boring you with this school stuff?"

"No," Sam said, shaking his head," I was just … distracted."

"By what?" Dean asked, irritated that his brother wasn't helping him choose classes. "What could possibly distract geek-boy from something to do with school?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just keep reading."

"Fine." Dean started reading off electives he could take.

And as much as he wanted to pay attention, Sam couldn't help but let his mind wander again to the night before.

He'd woken up, thirsty and needing to take a pee. Dad and Dean weren't back yet, so he'd taken the pistol into the bathroom with him, just incase. Everything was normal up to the point when he left the bathroom. That was when he saw Her. A beautiful, almost unworldly, looking woman just outside the window, peering at him through the gap where the curtains didn't close all the way. She'd taken off before Sam could do anything, but it was still so weird. Maybe she was just looking for someone? Or she was a psycho path on the loose …

"So, what do you think?" Dean stared expectantly at Sam.

Sam didn't miss a beat despite the fact he hadn't been listening to a word Dean had said, and replied," I think you should take a language course."

Dean faltered, like he'd expected his brother to suggest something else. "They do offer Latin ..." he said to himself, turning to consult the paper for more information on the class.

"Yeah, you could show off how good you are at it," Sam said with a grin, knowing his cocky brother wouldn't miss the chance to brag to a bunch of people about his amazing Latin speaking skills.

"Cool." Dean put a check mark next to the Latin class.

Neither of them took notice of their dad re-entering the motel room, back from grabbing a coffee. It wasn't until he dropped the day's newspaper over their school papers that their attention was caught. Sam read the cover story over Dean's shoulder, taking in the death of yet another patient who had been admitted into St. Francis hospital under strange medical conditions, before reading the article below about another disappearance on Orchard Rd.

"It's struck again," Dad said, as if Sam and Dean couldn't figure that out themselves.

This was the main case that had brought them to Columbus in the first place, among some other local ones Dad wanted to check out. Orchard Rd. was the residence of a new shopping mall that was being built where so far a contractor, three construction workers, and now a man delivering supplies, had disappeared without any traces. Dad's guess was they disturbed something under the earth when they started building, and that's why yesterday they (they being Sam and Dean) had spent all that time in the library looking over the history of the land being directly built on and the surrounding area.

"Any new information?"

Dad sat down on one of the beds and pulled off his boots, taking forever to get settled before answering, something that always irritated Sam. "There was a witness this time. Said he watched the man get dragged away by someone dressed in clothes similar to what a slave would have worn in the early nineteenth century."

Dean snapped his fingers as he made a connection. "There was a plantation on that land that burnt down back in 1845! It was rumored there was a slave uprising that caused it, so maybe we've got an angry spirit on our hands."

The two went back and forth, though the conversation was mainly dominated by Dad. Sam listened with half an ear as he went back to filling out his papers for school. A half hour passed before the subject of the hunt was dropped and Dad brought up a possible residence he'd found. It was pricey for an apartment with only two rooms and one bath, but it came already furnished, with a washer and dryer, and as a bonus, it was close to the library. Sam felt excitement bubbling up inside, a house! He'd still have to share a room with Dean, but who cared; at least they'd have a real address.

"Cool, are we going to go check it out?" Sam asked, entering into the conversation.

"We might," Dad said while getting up from the bed and walking over to the table, "I'll give him a call later, but let's finish up this for now."

He bent over so he could read what Dean and Sam had filled out. The only places left blank were the parts that he needed to sign and where Dean needed to put his name. This was because the eighteen year old had a close run in with a cop while leaving the scene of a homicidal sprite he'd just taken out, and was now suspected in a murder case and needed to lie low and use an alias for a little while. Dad picked up Dean's discarded pen and filled in the spaces, writing Dean's name as 'Alexander Winchester.'

Sam elbowed his big brother. "Lucky, you get to go by your middle name."

Dean shot him a half grin, glad to annoy Sam any chance he got, intentionally or not. "Maybe if you weren't such a lame ass –"

"Shut up, Dean!"

The boys proceeded to exchanged punches. For the second time, Dad saved Sam from saying 'uncle', smacking both of them on the heads and demanding a stop.

"Save the fighting for your sparring session tonight."

Sam let out a groan at the mentioning of sparring. He wasn't too keen on getting his ass handed to him by Dean, and that was what happened every time. No matter how good a fight he put up, he'd be beaten.

"Don't worry, Sammy, I'll go easy on you," Dean snickered, bumping his little brother with his shoulder.

Sam glowered at him. "Sure, laugh it up now, but I'll get you back later."

Dean grinned smugly back. "I'd like to see you do that, Sam-o."

"Oh, you will, Dean-o."

"Bitch-o."

"Jerk-o!"

Dad rolled his eyes and retreated back to his bed. Both boys quieted right away. Becoming irritated over their constant bickering was the first sign that Dad was due for another two to three day drinking binge, holed up in some bar while Dean and Sam sat waiting for his return.

It wasn't something Sam liked to experience, especially the aftermath, when Dad came stumbling back home and would either puke his guts out, or pass out for a few hours _and then_ puke his guts out. _It has been nearly three months since the last time._ Sam sat up straighter in his seat. That meant he'd have to be careful not to push his father over the edge, to be the one to cause him to leave. Sam didn't need that kind of guilt, because he would feel it every time he caught Dean watching out the window for Dad's return.

No one spoke for the next three hours. The motel room was noiseless, aside from the television and soft buzz of music that could be heard coming out of Dean's head phones. Sam was sitting on the couch, curled up with a book, when Dad announced he was going to step outside and give the guy who was renting out the apartment a call.

Sam waited until the door shut soundly behind his father. "You think we're going to get the apartment, Dean?"

"Maybe," Dean answered with a shrug, headphones around his neck so he could hear his little brother. "We made enough last night to."

"Cool," Sam said, grinning to himself at the prospect. "Hey, when do you think Dad will let me go with you guys?"

"Where, to the bar?" Dean snorted. "Never, you're too scrawny."

"I am not scrawny!" Sam shot back. He thought he looked pretty good …

Dean's eye brows rose. "Oh really? How about this, if you beat me in sparring later, I'll ask Dad to consider."

"Deal."

"Deal."

They stood up from their seats and met in the middle of the room. Both spit into their right hands, then Dean led them through their secret handshake. Dad walked in just as they were finishing and eyed them wearily while they wiped their hands clean on their jeans.

"I don't even want to know what you're up to now," he said with a shake of the head.

Sam felt some pity for the man, who had to be with two teenaged boys all the time. But if what Dad said in his stories about when he was a kid were true, than he supposed what comes around goes around, it was pure karma that Sam and Dean were they way they were.

"What did he say?" Dean was asking while Sam sat back down at the couch.

Dad pocketed the change he had left over from the pay phone he'd used. "We're meeting him tomorrow morning."

-SN-

Two green eyes stared intently back at him as Sam got into fighting position. Dean was taking this match seriously, determined to make his little brother fight hard to prove himself. Sam scrunched his toes against the carpet in anticipation, already feeling sweat trickle down the back of his neck. _This one's for all the marbles, folks._ He gave his father, who was backed against the wall beside the couch they'd pushed aside for more room to fight, a sideways glance, waiting for the signal to begin.

"Remember the rules, boys," Dad stated, eyes flicking between his sons before adding," And Dean, don't hurt your brother."

_Don't hurt your brother?_ Sam felt anger rise up from the pit of his stomach at the remark. His mind distracted, he didn't notice his father give the starting signal before it was too late. Dean grabbed him around the leg and arm and dropped him onto the floor like a sack of potatoes, but Sam's breath was knocked out of him only for a second.

He put up a real fight, reversing his brother's hold until he had Dean in a head lock. Dean struggled against him, but Sam had him down good. That was, until his older brother wrapped an arm around his waist and flipped him over. Dean pressed his side down on Sam's back to keep him from moving until he was in a position to get hold of Sam's left arm and pin it behind his back.

"No, Dean, not the chicken wing!"

Older brother laughed victoriously. Sam tried wiggling away until he was red in the face, but no matter how hard he tried, he just kept pulling on his bent arm harder, making it feel like it was about to rip out of its socket.

Dean leaned close to Sam's ear, taunting him. "C'mon Sammy, you're not going to give up that easy, are ya'?"

Sam couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face, as he bucked back and nailed his brother right in the nose with his head. Dean loosened his hold enough for Sam to gain control of his left arm again. Ignoring the blood dripping from Dean's nose, Sam jumped to his feet and took a fighting position again, feet dancing back and forth; ready to dodge a dive tackle.

He wasn't prepared for his brother's leg to shoot out and knock him off his feet, though. Dean didn't waste any time to hook his arms underneath Sam's and lock his feet around his ankles also, immobilizing him.

"Shit," Sam muttered, knowing this was it.

Panting, he searched for a way to escape from Dean, but with the side of his face pressed against the floor, the situation seemed pretty much hopeless. _Unless …_ Sam was pretty sure it wouldn't work, but he was willing to try anyways. He focused all of his strength into flipping him and his brother, so that Dean was pressed into the floor in his place. With a heave, Sam found he was able to do it. He flipped Dean underneath him, then began lifting his shoulders up and then slamming then back down so that Dean pounded into the floor until his arms gave enough for Sam to get away.

Unfortunately, all the energy he'd used to turn them onto the other side left little extra to win against his brother. Dean was able to keep his vise like grip on Sam's arms until Sam gave up and let himself get pinned against the ground again.

Dean knew he was finished too, and moved to help his little brother up to his feet.

"Nice try, you almost got me there," Dean said, using the back of his hand to wipe away the blood flowing down his face.

"I didn't break your nose, did I?" Sam asked, moving closer to examine his brother's face.

Dean let out a chuckle, putting a hand out to stop Sam from moving his face any closer. "Personal space, dude. I'm fine; it's just a little blood is all."

Dad stepped forward then. "Good, because now you have me to go up against."

Sam gave Dean a smug look, forgetting for the time being that he'd just lost their bet. He mouthed 'good luck,' and then took a seat off to the side to watch his dad and brother spar.

-SN-

Sam shifted beneath the scratchy feeling motel sheets. He couldn't fall asleep, his eyes glued on the window, waiting to see if the woman from the night before returned. Sam let out a groan; this was going to be a long night. He moved again, this time bumping into his brother's side.

"Sorry Dean," he whispered, not wanting to wake his slumbering father in the bed next to theirs.

"Some of us are tired Sammy," Dean snapped. "Go to sleep."

His older brother was exhausted from earlier, and it was evident in his lack of patience. Sam couldn't blame him; Dean went three rounds against him and two against Dad, without a single breather in between, and going up against Dad he should have gotten one. There were no limits when Dean and Dad fought; they used fists, knees, whatever they could to win. It wore Sam out just watching.

But that didn't stop him from replying with just as much annoyance.

"I can't."

Why would he still be up if he could fall asleep?

Dean let out a huff. "Why not?"

Sam turned away from his brother. How was he supposed to explain he thought a woman was watching him without Dean laughing in his face and telling him 'in your dreams, Sammy-Boy'? Dean must have sensed something was up by his silence, and he gently poked Sam's side.

"Hey, what's going on in that freaky head of yours?"

Sam scooted away from the finger so that he was nearly off the edge of the bed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he mumbled, feeling stupid for getting so worked up over what had probably just been his imagination playing tricks on him in the night time shadows.

"Try me," Dean said in his best understanding-big-brother voice.

Sam flipped back over so he could face Dean, licking his lips as he thought out his words. "There was a lady outside the window last night, while you and Dad were out. She was only there for a second, but I've got this … this feeling, like she's going to show up again or somethin'."

To Sam's surprise, Dean's face didn't crumple into laughter.

"What did she look like?" Dean asked seriously.

"She was beautiful," Sam sputtered, feeling a great weight being lifted off his chest as he explained to his brother all the details from the night before that he could remember. "But she ran off as soon as I saw her."

Dean nodded his head, looking deep in thought. "So, you're telling me a gorgeous blond woman was watching you from the window, and you think she's coming back tonight to … what, watch you some more while you're sleeping?"

"Something like that!" Sam was so excited, Dean actually believed him!

"Sammy, you know what this sounds like?" Dean said, causing Sam to unconsciously lean forward. "Sounds like … You've been watching my movies while Dad and me are out, again!"

Sam jumped at Dean's suddenly harsh voice, and then his face reddened. "I have _not_ been watching any of your movies!" Dean started chuckling at his protests. "Hey, I was being serious Dean, that chick was real – "

"Go to bed Sammy," Dean said, shaking his head while laying his head back down on the pillow and shutting his eyes. "Maybe you'll dream of your fantasy woman."

"She's not a fantasy … "He grumbled, making himself comfortable on the bed again.

Sam slowly drifted into a light sleep, unaware of the figure perched outside the window, hunger in the deep depths of its eyes.

* * *

**a/n: **Whoo, chapter two! Sorry if it's a little short, a promise the next one'll be longer.


	4. Midnight Rider

_Battle of Evermore_

_Sharp Shooter - Pony_

* * *

Chapter Three_ - Midnight Rider_

**_Disclaimer; I own nothing._**

* * *

_If there's a God out there, please kill me now._

Dean grimaced at the sight of yet another school building. After spending eleven years in the prisons of education, he didn't feel like he could make it through another one. Of course, geek-tron who was sitting behind him hadn't stopped talking about his classes since they'd gotten up that morning.

"I wonder what book we're going to read in English – "

"Well, boys," Dad said, interrupting Sam as he eased the Impala to a stop in front of the main doors to the building," Your bus is number forty-two."

Sam jumped to open the door and get out of the car. "Yeah, Dad, we know. See ya'." He practically ran to the school, back pack bouncing haphazardly on his shoulder.

"Try not to yell at the idiots who bring their cars in," Dean advised, shooting his father a small smile.

Dad nodded, then voiced the order Dean had been waiting for. "Watch out for Sammy."

"Yes sir, you know I will." Dean's smile grew into a grin. He slapped his father on the shoulder in farewell before exiting the Impala and hurrying after his school-crazed little brother.

His first four classes went by with considerable speed. Not because he was actually interested in the subjects, Dean was bored senseless by the teachers, but it gave him time to think about the hunt. It wasn't until Dean stepped into the Latin class that his attention was finally drawn to the present. Sitting with an empty seat beside her was about the hottest chick Dean had seen in the entire school. He was quick to place his books on the desk beside her. Maybe he could get to know her, and perhaps talk about extra curricular activities they could do together.

But as Dean turned to start working his charm on the bronze-skinned beauty he was interrupted by the Latin teacher walking into the room. She began giving instructions right away.

"Class, I'm Ms. Freemont, and when I call your name raise your hand or say 'here.'"

Dean eyed the woman, sizing her up, and decided she was way too disorganized and flustered looking to be a good teacher. She probably didn't know much about the language she was teaching either. _This could be fun …_

"Faye Rodriguez?"

The good looking girl sitting next to him raised her hand slightly, looking as unimpressed with Ms. Freemont as Dean did

_Faye, I'll need to remember that._ Hs eyes from roaming up and down her body, and he could barely contain the cocky smirk that came onto his lips. This was going to be awesome.

"Alexander? Alexander Winchester?"

"Oh, uh – here."

Dean could have slapped himself; he'd zoned out and missed his 'name' being called about five hundred times. Real smooth, but now Faye was watching him with mild interest. Maybe he could use that stammer to his advantage? _Oh yeah, nervous new kid, she'll totally fall for it._ He averted his eyes to his desk when she caught him watching her, slipping into his role.

When class ended and Dean was standing to go to lunch, he felt Faye's eyes on him again, but he didn't show it. Instead, he kind of fumbled with his stack of books while glancing down at the map of the building. Making his way into the hall, Dean balanced his books unevenly on his side while glancing down at the map every few seconds.

"Hey, Alex, right?"

_I'm a freakin' genius._

Dean slowly looked up from his paper to meet Faye's gaze. "Yeah?"

She smiled reassuringly at him. "I'm Faye, from Latin class. You look lost, need some help?"

"I was trying to find the cafeteria … "Dean said softly, thinking back to how Sam acted around girls.

"I can show you where the cafeteria is, no problem." She placed a hand on his arm and started to guide him down a different hall way. "I've got to get to Chemistry, but that's it just down the hall to the left."

Dean bashfully nodded his thanks. "See you later?"

"See ya'," Faye said, smiling at him while she backed away.

As soon as she was out of sight, Dean went into the cafeteria, humming to himself lightly. He got his food and sat down at one of the only empty spots in the cafeteria. The table that must have been reserved for the nerds and losers because that was all he saw also sitting there. Dean began eating the chicken sandwich, only to find one of the kids with larger than necessary glasses staring at him. If he hadn't of known better, he would have thought he were glaring at him.

"What?" Dean asked around his food, not coming off too intimidating, but still sending the nerd into a wide-eyed, bunny like panic.

After that nobody else at the table dared to even turn their heads in his direction. Dean rolled his eyes. _Wusses _He did pick up on their conversation though, and listened rather intently while they discussed the upcoming Batman film. But halfway through, Dean's attention was brought to his little brother, who sat down with a huff opposite the table from him.

"What took you so long?"

Sam stabbed at his salad. "Some idiot tried to shove me into my locker."

Dean stopped eating. "Who?" Going into full big-brother mode, Dean didn't even notice the dark look that came onto his face.

"I don't know who he was, but you can find him bawling his eyes out at the nurses' office right now," Sam mumbled.

Dean's mouth fell open in disbelief. "What did you do to him?" He asked, face lighting up with pride.

"I think I just bruised his jaw."

"How big was he?'

Sam shrugged. "Maybe a little smaller than you."

"Fricken' unbelievable!" Dean reached across the table and ruffled Sam's hair. "Good job, Sammy-Boy."

Sam smiled shyly, taking in the victory his older brother saw. "I guess that was pretty good, hunh?"

'You bet'cha."

Both were beaming as they finished their lunches.

-SN-

"And then _WHAM! _Sam nailed him with a right hook smack in the jaw!"

Dean was retelling Sam's story to Dad, who had just gotten home from work and looked like he needed something to take his mind off of the day's happenings. He was adding in his own story-telling flare, but that was only to be expected. His little brother's version was too dry.

Dad listened patiently until he was finished, then moved to their new dining room table. "Sam should be able to stand up for himself."

Dean heard the pride in his dad's voice, but Sam seemed to prickle over the comment. A warning glance kept him from saying anything stupid, but Dean still worried that one of these days Sam was going to start something with Dad, and then he'd have to deal with the end results. _One would disappear, the other would be moody. Ah, the story of my life, dealing with the two most stubborn people on the planet. _

"Why don't you get started on that home work, Sammy?" Dean suggested.

"Sure," Sam agreed, drawing his books from his back pack before sitting down at the table with Dad.

From where Dean was standing in the kitchen he could keep an eye on the two. He was glad the apartment was set up the way it was, because he only had to turn his back from them when he got something from the fridge, and it helped to make him feel more in control of the situation. _You can look away for a second and one of them will be fuming from the ears. _Dean gathered all he needed for dinner and started to prepare the meal.

Halfway through Sam rejoined him, claiming his advanced math homework was finished, since it was easy, first day of school stuff.

"You know what would make this better, Dean?"

"What?" Dean asked, not paying full attention to Sam as he chopped up some onions.

"Music. Do we have a radio anywhere?'

"Maybe."

Sam left the kitchen to search for a means of listening to some music.

Dean began chopping up some celery. If his brother did managed to find a radio, he'd need to be prepared to be assaulted with hill billy tunes. Sam's latest love was country music, something Dean couldn't quite wrap his mind around, but he let him listen to it occasionally anyway.

"Dean, you and you're brother are going to check out the hunting grounds tonight."

He'd been so consumed in his thoughts and cooking Dean hadn't noticed his father come into the room and stand next to him.

"By ourselves?" Dad had never trusted Dean and Sam on a hunt alone before, even if it was just checking out the area.

Dad nodded solemnly. "I trust you to look after your brother."

"Yes sir." Dean's eyes widened at the weight suddenly put onto his shoulders.

_I trust you to look after your brother._ Oh God, if anything happened to Sam while they were out, it would be solely Dean's fault, his responsibility to tell Dad. Dean's heart started to race, but just when he was about to question his father's trust in him, Sam came loping into the kitchen with the beat up boom box Dean had put together a couple months earlier.

"Look at what I found!" Sam hurried to plug it in, ignorant to the conversation that had just taken place.

Dean let himself relax as he griped about the radio station Sam left it on. _Country, just like I thought._ But truthfully he was never so glad to hear the sappy twang song coming from the speakers before. It gave him time to recover.

-SN-

_You can do this, you can do this._ Dean let out a slow, deep breath from where he was seated behind the wheel of the Impala, waiting for Sam to get his ass in motion. He'd only told his little brother about their mission an hour ago, and Sam was still gathering all his gear.

Dean leaned on the horn, and a minute later his mop headed brother came running out the door of their apartment. After throwing his stuff into the trunk, Sam jumped into the passenger side seat, panting like he'd just been in a ten mile race.

"Could ya' have taken any longer, princess?"

"Sorry, we can go now," Sam said, ignoring the 'princess' insult.

Putting the car into drive, Dean tore out of the driveway. He could have sworn he saw Dad come outside and flip him off from the corner of his rearview mirror, but Dean choose to ignore it and turn up the mix tape that was playing louder.

Sam jumped to turn it back down. He had the map with Orchard Rd. spread across his lap, and knowing Sam, probably wanted to discuss what their plan of action was.

"Dean, what's the plan of action?"

_Word for word. Damn, am I psychic or something? _

When Dean finished patting himself on the back, he reached over and pointed to the spot on the map where they'd put an 'X', which marked where the old plantation had been.

"If we're going to pick up any activity, its probably going to be there," Dean explained as Sam continued to scrutinize the map thoughtfully," So we'll start at the plantation first then trek over to the building location for the mall."

"That sounds – "Sam suddenly broke into a fit of sneezing, and by the tenth sneeze was coughing too.

Dean listened with concern, but couldn't take his eyes off the intersection they were going through to check on his little brother. "You okay, Sammy?"

"Yeah," He answered in a froggy voice as rubbed at his sore throat. 'That kinda hurt."

"Dude, like twenty people must have been talking about you. Or walking over your grave in the future … Which one was it again?"

Sam snorted and turned the music back up. The incident wasn't brought up again, but Dean made a mental note to make sure his little brother wasn't coming down with something.

It was another ten minutes before Dean slowed the Impala to a stop and parked on an old dirt path just off of Orchard Rd. Sam gathered their duffel bag full of main objects they'd need if they came across anything of the supernatural. They both tucked .45s in the waist bands of their pants, the weapons loaded with rock salt rounds.

_What every teenager should have on them, right?_

'What direction?"

Sam glanced down at the map, which was barely visible in the almost complete dark of night settling in. "West," he said, pointing in the direction of a wooded area.

The brothers headed in that direction and kept going until they had to veer north around a large pond. Dean had to swat at moss from low hanging branches out of his face, and his discomfort at touching the green growth showed on his face. _This shit reminds me of Louisiana … _He shuddered; he so didn't want to think about the time he got lost in the swamps outside Baton Rogue.

"How much farther, Sammy?" Dean asked as they parted from the woods and came into a clearing.

"Not much, the site of the plantation should be somewhere in the middle of this field."

Dean scanned the field; Dad had taught him to be very cautious when it came to open spaces. Even though he couldn't see anything that could pose a threat right away, Dean's hunter instincts were telling him to watch his back.

"Stay close, "Dean ordered as he took lead across the clearing.

Both of them were being particularly stealthy, until Sam started hacking up a lung. Dean figured his little brother had stopped walking when the coughs became distant, but then alarm rose up in him when the noise suddenly stopped all together. He turned to check on Sam, but all he found was open space.

Dean hurried to pull out his .45.

"Sam?"

No answer.

"Sam!"

Still no answer.

_Shit, shit, shit!_ Dean rotated his head to see the surrounding area, and was starting to feel really freaked out that maybe his little brother had been sucked into a worm hole or something, when he saw a figuring moving in the distance. Dean took off after him, and it wasn't long before he was close enough to see the African man dragging an unconscious (or at least Dean prayed he was unconscious) Sam behind him. The man was flickering in and out of sight, and it only took a second for it all to register in Dean's mind.

"Hey, ugly!" Dean shouted, before firing off two shots of rock salt.

The ghost went into a spasm of disappearances and reappearances until he finally dissipated. Dean hurried to Sam's side, kneeling down and then scooping the teenager into his arms. He lightly slapped at Sam's cheeks.

"Sammy, hey, Sammy? You in there?"

He could see the rise and fall of Sam's chest, so there was no doubt his brother was alive.

Sam stirred then let out a weary cough as he forced his eye lids to open. He was disoriented only for a few moments, before he remembered what was going on and pushed away from Dean's arms. Dean grinned at the action, and moved to help haul his brother to his feet.

"Come on Stretch, I think we're getting close," Dean said, then stopped and eyed his brother," You gonna make it, or you want to go back to the car?"

Sam glared at Dean. "I'm not some wuss, jerk."

"Yeah, well you sure are a bitch."

Their calming banter was cut short when Dean sensed someone coming up behind them. He shot the apparition just in time to stop him from knocking Sam out yet again. Dean turned to Sam and motioned for him to get his weapon out, and his little brother gladly obliged.

They followed the path the ghost had been dragging Sam until they came upon what appeared to be the remains of a house. Amidst the rubble, Dean spotted beer cans, empty cigarette cartons and other signs of recent human activity. _Bet that's what woke the spirit up. _Dean dug around the duffel until he found the salt and gasoline.

"Think if we light this place up, it'll get rid of the spirit?"

"Whatever makes you happy, pyro," Sam chided, studying the plantation houses remains carefully.

Dean hesitated, pulling his flashlight out first and making sure there was nothing that stuck out as evidence, before he started dumping the salt. Dean had to fight to control the shaking in his hands as he poured the salt, hoping Sam didn't catch that he was still pretty shook up over the close encounter.

_If I hadn't of spotted them soon enough, if something had happened to Sammy … _

Dean pushed away those thoughts, he had work to do. After the salt came the gasoline, which he doused the ruins with before lighting a match and throwing it into the now gasoline contaminated area. The boys stood back and watched to make sure the fire didn't get out of hand.

Pretty soon Dean was wishing they had just left.

Faces kept on appearing in the flames and in the smoke. They were screaming and carrying on in a horrible way, and Dean could tell just from looking out the corner of his eye that it was scaring Sam big time. Hell, it was bothering Dean too. This sort of thing had never happened before, but at least it gave reassurance that this was the spot the spirits were at. _Hopefully._

Dean wrapped an arm around his little brother and guided him away from the sight. They could still hear the screams until they got into the woods, and even then the voices were so haunting they echoed in both boys' minds even when they were out of ear shot. Dean was taking deep breaths to calm himself, to try and fight off the feeling that him and Sam had just taken out a spirit; a spirit that had been killing people, that their dad wasn't there to help them with.

Dean had never been on a hunt like this before, where it ended so simply, aside from the fire.

"Hey Dean?" Sam's voice was so small Dean almost thought he was taken away from him again, but that wasn't possible since his little brother was tucked into his side.

"Yeah?"

"Did this seem a little too easy to you?"

Dean looked down at his brother, his eyes brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Like … Maybe Dad knew what was going to happen, he set it up?"

"And put you in danger? No way."

They stayed silent for the rest of the walk, slapping absently at the mosquitoes dive bombing them, but Dean could practically hear the gears in Sam's mind turning. _He's gonna bring it up again in the car._ But to his astonishment, Sam didn't so much as move to turn the music down after dropping into the Impala.

"Well?" Dean asked over the sounds of Cheap Trick.

Sam didn't turn away from the window he was staring out of. "Well what?"

"If Dad really did set this up, why?"

Sam shifted from the midnight sky outside. "A lesson?"

"Or a test," Dean said, anger flaring up inside him.

It wasn't often he got angry at Dad, but sometimes the man was so blind. He couldn't endanger Sammy that way, not when he was still just a little kid! _But he's not so little any more, Dean; you've got to remember that. _Fourteen was still pretty young, though, too young for a nearly solo hunt. Dad was going to hear about this.

Dean never got the chance to talk to his dad, though, because when they got home the ex-marine was no where to be found. If he didn't have enough worries already – Dean threw the Impala's keys onto the table in frustration. _Bastard, didn't even leave a note. _But Dean had to control his anger, because if Sam saw it, he'd loose even more of the little respect he had of their old man.

_Dad, you'd better be back in time for work._

* * *

**a/n: **Wow, chapter three, I thought it would never come. A little bit longer then the last chapter, right? Well, either way, I feel it's the right length.

And, just a little bit of info; that scene with Dean at the nerd table? The whole reason for Battle of Evermore. It was't even significant, but I wanted to write a story with Dean sitting at the nerd table, listening to them talk about Batman, and there you have.

It would be nice if you left me a review, but just reading this story is enough to make me happy.


	5. High Voltage

_Battle of Evermore_

_Sharp Shooter - Pony_

* * *

Chapter Four_ - High Voltage_

**_Disclaimer; I own nothing._**

* * *

"_The lunatic is in my head. You raise the blade, you make me change. You re-arrange me 'til I'm sane … "_

Sam forced himself to rise out of bed and place his feet on the cool wood flooring.

_Dean knows this song creeps me out, the jerk! _He stumbled across the room to the dresser where the boom box playing Pink Floyd's 'Brain Damage' sat. His older brother was always coming up with new ways to wake Sam, and this was so far the worst. Sam would rather get 'steam rolled' by Dean then wake up to that song. _And he probably knows that, too._

Turning the tape off, Sam began on the first leg of his morning journey; the bathroom. Half way down the hall, he paused outside his father's bedroom. The door had been left open a crack, and through the gap Sam could hear his brother speaking softly.

"C'mon, Dad, it's just a hang over, you're not going to die."

There was some grumbling that Sam figured to be Dad, and this time Dean spoke in a louder tone.

"You have a job, you have to go."

Some more grumbling.

"How can you hate the man already, you barely know him?" And even though his words said he was scolding Dad, Dean's voice betrayed him, laughter evident in it.

Sam stepped away from the door. He already knew how the conversation was going to end; he didn't need to listen any more. Dean was going to convince Dad to get up 'for me and Sammy' and go to work, and that was that. It amazed Sam, the connection Dean had with their dad. To tell the truth, he was almost envious of it at times.

_But its Dean's thing, I'd just mess it up if I tried to butt in._

Sam hurried to the bathroom, his bladder protesting any more standing around. A minute later and he was in the kitchen, grabbing a bowl of Wheaties and seating himself at the table. Dean came down a little bit later, and Sam wasn't surprised to find he was still only sporting boxers and an under shirt. No matter how early Dean got up, he always left getting dressed until the last minute. Sam blamed it on poor planning, because God knows his brother didn't like to plan anything out. _That would be the smart thing to do._

When Dean sat down at the table with his bowl of cereal also, the boys shared a moment of uncomfortable silence. Neither of them wanted to be the first one to bring up the subject of the hunt the night before, but it was an unavoidable topic.

Finally, Sam finished chewing his last bite of cereal and spoke. "You know what, Dean?"

"Hm?" Dean answered, cautiously keeping his eyes on the bowl of Wheaties in front of him.

"When that spirit knocked me out last night, I thought I was dead."

Dean froze mid-chew.

"And you know what my first thought was?"

"What?"

"I can't die; I don't know what happened to Chamberlain!"

Dean's face instantly lit up. "You are such a nerd."

Sam let out a chuckle. It was sad but true, his first concern when he believed he had died was about the soldier in the book he was reading, The Killer Angels. His mind had jumped to leaving Dean behind right after, but that wasn't what his brother wanted to hear. Dean handled jokes much better then heart felt confessions.

"Hey, you want to try bumming the car off of Dad this Friday?" Dean asked just as Dad came into the room behind him.

"Why do you want her?"

Dean glared at Sam for not warning him of their father's presence, but Sam just smiled back at him innocently.

"Because a movie is coming out that we want to see," Dean said, purposely giving as little information as possible.

Sam knew why; Dean didn't want Dad thinking he was a little kid, because he wanted to go see the movie 'Batman and Robin.'

"Do you have the money?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay, you can take her then."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but shut it when his brain processed the answer. He sat back in his chair, happy but confused. Sam felt the same way, sending his father a quizzical stare. Dad was oblivious to their responses, too busy popping aspirins to notice. But he wasn't oblivious enough to notice the amount of pills in the bottle was smaller then the last time he'd checked.

"Boys, whose been having the aspirins?" He asked, more out of curiosity then concern.

"Not me," Dean answered before shoveling the last of his breakfast into his mouth.

"Sam?"

He shrugged. "I had a couple for a headache."

Dean was instantly worried. "Not because of – "

"No," Sam reassured," I had them before school."

"Oh, okay," Dean said, still worried but not pressing the subject.

The rest of the morning droned on until Dean came hopping out to the Impala with one boot on and only one arm through the sleeve of his favorite leather jacket and they left for school. Dad dropped them off at the front of the school wordlessly, but neither boy was surprised. This was just the way Dad acted when he had a hang over.

Dean slapped Sam affectionately across the back of the head before heading off to his home room with a final 'see ya' later, Sammy.' Sam smoothed back down his mussed hair and hoped no one caught Dean calling him 'Sammy.' It wasn't that big a deal, but kids could be cruel sometimes.

Sam was turning to go to his own homeroom class when he just managed to catch himself from walking into someone standing right behind him.

"Sorry," he said, not realizing until after he said it that the person was Lori. "Oh, you."

Lori smiled. "Oh you? What a nice way to greet a person."

"Sorry," Sam apologized again, rubbing his arm in embarrassment.

"No problem. Hey, do you have English second period?"

Sam thought back to his schedule, and nodded his head. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I have the same one," Lori said as the two began walking towards her homeroom class, which was just down the hall. "I thought I recognized you yesterday."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wasn't sure it was you," Lori said with a shrug. "Anyway, when do you have lunch?"

"Fifth," Sam said with a slight groan.

Lori's smile widened. "So do I! You should so come and sit with me and my friends today."

Sam thought back to the image of Dean sitting by himself at the geek table. He didn't want to abandon his brother, but the chance of making new friends had Sam excited. He'd ask Dean at lunchtime if he cared, so he wouldn't make any promises now.

"Maybe."

"Good, see ya' at English." Lori hurried into her class.

Slightly dazed by what had just happened, Sam glanced at the clock in the hall way and let out a muttered 'crap.' If he didn't run he'd be late for home room!

-SN-

During English class Sam's invitation to join Lori and her two friends, Carson and Jose, for lunch was offered again. Sam's next three classes couldn't go fast enough he was so happy; he might actually get to hang out with kids his own age for once! After Math let out and he stopped at his locker, Sam had to force himself to walk slowly and calmly to the cafeteria.

_Is it normal to be so excited over this? _Sam wondered absently while searching for his brother amongst the mixture of Columbus High students. He spotted Dean walking towards the lunch table he'd sat at yesterday, and Sam hurried to join him.

"Hey Dean?"

Dean looked up from his tray. "Yeah?"

"Do you mind if I sit with a couple of my friends today?"

"Friends?" Dean questioned, one eye brow raised.

"Well, they're not exactly friends yet," Sam said, averting his eyes to the floor.

Dean reached out and shoved Sam playfully. "Go sit with them; don't let your loser big brother drag you down."

"You're not that much of a loser," Sam shot over his shoulder as he went in the direction of the table he could see Lori was sat at.

Lori saw him coming before he sat down, so she had already made a space for Sam between her and Carson. Sam told her he'd be back in a second and went to grab his lunch. He sat down a minute later and Lori began to properly introduce him to her friends.

"Sam, this is Carson Stevens. He's a beast at math, but can hardly spell his name," Lori began with the blond haired boy beside Sam, then turned her attention to the Hispanic boy across the table," And this is Jose Rodriguez. He has an awesome big sister who does our Science homework for us."

Jose let out a snort. "Yeah, she's an awesome big sister when you blackmail her."

"Too true," Lori agreed while munching on a French fry," Speaking of that, have you found any new dirt on her? I'm going to need help with the Science review coming up."

"I could always help you," Sam suggested when José shook his head 'no.'

"Are you good at Science?" Carson asked, scooting closer to Sam in interest.

"I get A's," Sam said with a shrug, trying to be modest.

"Great, 'cause we all suck at Science. Are you good at any other subjects?"

Sam found himself staring intently at his salad as he answered. "I get A's in all my classes."

Lori shook her head in disbelief. "And let me guess, you're an athlete too?"

"Well … "Sam began, and he couldn't help but chuckle when the redhead rolled her eyes at him.

"You're just the perfect guy, huh?"

"No, my brother says my face could use a little work," Sam said jokingly while poking at the green leaves on his tray.

"I'd have to disagree with your brother there."

Sam was caught off guard by Lori's comment, but he didn't have time to question her about it. Carson started asking Lori about her little sister's friend who was in the hospital. Sam listened carefully; finding out that the little girl was in the hospital with symptoms of what appeared to be tuberculosis, but all of her tests came back negative and no treatment was working to make her better.

"Sara's parents are really worried she's going to end up like all the others, her dad can't even bring himself to go to her hospital room."

"All the others?" Sam couldn't help but ask, curiosity getting the best of him.

"About ten people so far have died from what everyone thinks is some weird kind of tuberculosis," Lori said with a solemn expression.

_That's right, those people at St. Elizabeth's. _The group ate the rest of their lunch in silence, Sam mulling over the information he'd just heard. _Maybe Dad will let me walk to the library later, and I can research it. _Something didn't feel right about this, and Sam was going to get to the bottom of it.

-SN-

By 2:15, Sam's mind was distracted from the tuberculosis case, instead focused on getting through the crowd of students that blocked his way to the bus. He could see Dean ahead of him in the crowd, briskly shoving people out of the way so he could get passed, all the while scanning the area for Sam.

_Damn, I wish was taller. _Sam thought, knowing his inferior height of 5"10 couldn't be seen with all the high school giants around him. But just when he was thinking his struggle was worthless, a hand reached out and pulled him out of the crowd of rowdy teenagers trying to get home and into the clearing outside bus forty-two.

"Thanks Dean," Sam said gratefully, sticking to his brother's side as they got onto the bus and made their way to the back.

They were one of the last stops, so there was no point sitting up front where the bus driver could see them easier and yell at every little thing they did. Dean chose the seat three from the very back and to the left. It was barely big enough to fit both of them and their legs were cramped bad enough it reminded Sam of the time he'd ridden in the back of a police car, but they were hidden out of sight from almost everybody else.

"So how are we going to tell Dad?" Sam asked as the bus pulled away from the school.

"Tell him what? That we took out a homicidal spirit without his help?" When Sam nodded his head, Dean shrugged. "Just like that, I guess."

Sam shifted his heavy backpack onto the floor. "You don't think he'll be mad?"

"Why would he? It was either kill the S.O.B. or let it take you away."

"I guess … "Sam stared out the bus window thoughtfully, wanting to say more but not knowing how to put his thoughts into words.

Dean nudged his shoulder recognizing the look. "What?"

"Well, if he doesn't get angry, then that means he probably did set it up."

Dean rolled his eyes. "C'mon Sammy, stop worrying about that. So what if he set it up? If he did, I'm sure he was watching the whole time to make sure we didn't screw up."

Sam tried to believe his brother, but he couldn't. _Dad had been out drinking last night while me and Dean could have possibly been killed._ How could he do that? Dad loved killing the bad guys, so why would he go drinking instead of helping his sons? Was he that messed up, he didn't even want to hunt any more?

Beside him, Dean had started humming. Sam couldn't help but be drawn out of his funk, as he recognized the tune and immediately punched his brother's shoulder.

"Ow," Dean said mockingly, his cocky smile in place as he continued to hum Pink Floyd.

It was a half hour later before Sam and Dean could finally get off the stuffy school bus, and got to stretch their legs on the half a block walk home. The Impala was already parked outside the apartment, and Sam could tell it worried Dean by the way his brother picked up his pace and hurried inside.

"Dad?" Dean called, dropping his book bag onto the floor absently.

Sam discarded his shoes and listened to Dean tromp down the hallway to find their dad. When Dean found him, Dad must have been in the shower, because both of them were yelling instead of talking to each other. _Or they just don't know how loud they are … _Dean came back down the hallway with a smile on his face a couple minutes later.

"Dad got off early and said we're going out for dinner."

"Dinner?" Sam repeated surprised by the proposition. "Cool."

That meant he'd need to hurry and do his homework and then get cleaned up. Two hours later, and Sam was standing next to the door with his hair brushed neatly out of place alongside Dean, whose hair was also in a coordinated mess. Dad appeared from his room, clean shaven and looking much fresher than he had earlier that morning, and joined them at the door.

"Boys, I thought you got cleaned up already?"

"We did," Sam said back to his dad before moving to leave the apartment.

"First I let them grow their hair out, then they start styling it like girls," Dad mumbled to himself while pulling the door shut behind him and Dean.

Dean grinned back at him. "Like you're one to talk, hippie man."

"Go get in the car," Dad ordered, the glare he was shooting at Dean holding little meaning as his mouth curled into a small smile. "I told you never to bring that up."

"Yes sir," Dean replied flippantly.

When they were all inside the Impala and heading down the road, music blasting, Dad brought up the subject Sam had feared.

"So, what's the report on last night?"

Both brothers were silent, until Dean worked up the nerve to answer. "We wasted the spirit."

Dad looked skeptically at Dean. "Really?"

"Yeah, salted and burned 'em," Dean said, playing it off as no big deal.

Nodding thoughtfully, Dad let the subject drop, and along with it Sam's heart. _He meant to send us out there. _Sam forced himself to take a deep breath and keep the lump in his throat from forming any more. Keeping his eyes locked on the passing scenery, Sam didn't say a word until they got to the restaurant, and even then he answered with mostly one word. Dean tried to pull his physic older brother mojo and read what Sam was feeling, but he gave up when Sam remained unresponsive.

It wasn't until late that night, when Sam and Dean were lying in their separate beds, both wide awake and unable to sleep, that Dean faced him.

"Sammy, what's up?"

Sam couldn't bring himself to speak at first, but then he found himself pouring all of his thoughts out to his brother. How afraid he was that Dad was going to start sending them on hunts alone, and how Dad was slipping farther into his bottle. Dean's eyes saddened as he watched his little brother struggle not to cry. He came over and sat on Sam's bed and placed a placating hand on his shoulder.

"Listen, Sammy, I'm sure Dad knows what he's doing. He's not going to just send us solo after one salt and burn without him."

Sam tried to soak in all of Dean's comfort, but he still found himself feeling one thing. "Dean, I'm scared."

Dean stood up and stared down at Sam with what he could only describe as pure determination and strength on his face. "Don't be, because I'll always be there even if Dad isn't."

Sam found himself washed with the feeling of relief. He smiled gratefully at his big brother, before turning over to try and get some sleep. He was just shutting his eyes, when a movement caught his attention. Sam could have sworn he saw a flash of blond hair outside the window, but –

"Night Sammy."

Sam pushed away the image. "Night Dean."

* * *

**a/n: **Sorry for the delay! A cold, homework, and a hundred other excuses kept me from updating on time, but alas, BOE has a new chapter. I'll try and catch up with the next chapter, but it'll probably be posted more like Friday.


	6. Godzilla

Battle of Evermore

Sharp Shooter - Pony

* * *

Chapter Five; _Godzilla_

**Disclaimer; I own nothing.**

* * *

Whistling along with George Straight, who was singing his heart out over the radio, Sam worked steadily at the pile of dishes he had to wash. He was purely running off of caffeine, as it was nearly one in the morning and he'd gone through four cups of coffee, but Sam was determined not to fall asleep.

_Got to wait up for Dean._

His said brother had gone out on a date with some chick in his Latin class, and Sam wanted to wait until he came home before going to sleep. Not because he was scared or anything to go to bed in an empty house, but because Dean was sure to wake him up and go over the details of his night anyway. _Keep telling yourself that, Sammy-boy. _If his dad would only come home from the bar –

Sam's heart skipped a beat when he heard the slam of a car door. _Dean! _Sam forced himself to calm down as he walked over and unlocked the front door, opening it wide for his brother. Sam was surprised when Dean stumbled half way up the steps to the house before making his slow way inside, Dad right behind him.

"I thought you … "Sam began, but stopped as he studied his brother in confusion.

Dad and Dean both had slightly red faces, and the edge Dean usually had to him seemed to be gone while Dad looked even more depressed then normal. _Oh great, they're drunk. _Sam couldn't believe he was related to these two.

"Sammy," Dean said boisterously, slinging an arm over his little brother's shoulders," You shoulda joined us. Great time!"

Sam slinked out of his brother's hold. "I'm sure it was, but let's remember who's under aged here."

"C'mon Sammy, don't be a stick in the mud," Dean said, slapping his brother good naturedly across the back. "You're plenty old enough to go to a bar!"

"You wouldn't say that if you were sober." Sam knew his brother, and this was how Dean acted under the influence of alcohol.

Sam gently guided his drunken brother to bed with ease, as Dean was in no state to protest except to ask why they couldn't pound a few more back. Dad shuffled off to his own bedroom, shutting the door soundlessly behind him.

Dean caught the action and moved towards the door. "Dad shouldn't be alone."

"No, Dean, its bed time." Sam pushed his brother into their room.

"But, Dad – "

"You'll thank me in the morning, Dean."

Dean fell onto his bed with little effort on Sam's part, where he then proceeded to peel of his jacket and boots. Dean snuggled into his pillow, hand snaking underneath to clasp the handle of his knife.

"Thanks Sammy," He slurred, before drifting off into an almost unconscious state.

Sam waited until he was sure Dean was out, and then left to finish the dishes. It was an odd situation he was in. For the past three weeks since they'd been in Columbus, Sam had much more responsibility around the house. Chores that normally fell on Dean, Sam was doing. And not that Sam was complaining, but it was just – weird.

_I guess as long as I'm in school, I'm happy, _Sam rationed, thinking of his challenging classes and new friends. Yah, two weeks in school and he was enjoying it. It almost blocked out the whole hunting ordeal from the first week.

Sam turned his head when he felt the need to cough, so that he didn't contaminate any of the clean dishes.

He was still worried about his father and all that had gone on, but Dean's words had really reassured him that he was safe as long as Dean was around. But now, if Dean was going to start going to the bar too … Sam shook the thought away, his older brother would never abandon or forget him.

Finishing the dishes, Sam moved to the table. He was still wide awake, and figured he'd start in on the books he'd gotten from the library about tuberculosis. He'd skimmed over one so far, and the history of the disease was intriguing. He picked up a pretty thick text, but Sam's eyes darted into the kitchen where the boom box was placed on the counter top before he could open it. The country station started to fizzle and pop.

"What the?"

He hadn't had any problem picking up the station any other time. The hairs on the back of his neck went up, and Sam jumped when he felt a presence behind him. But when he looked, there was nothing. Letting out a sigh, Sam went back to his book, and nearly had a heart attack when he found his dad standing beside the table.

"Don't do that, Dad," Sam said, letting out a slight chuckle to try and hide the fear he'd felt.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I can't sleep."

Dad seemed to understand that and sat down beside Sam without further arguement. "What are you reading?"

Despite the softness of his voice, Sam picked up on his father's words. "Just a few books about tuberculosis."

"For school?"

"No," Sam answered with a shrug.

Dad gave him a look like he thought his son was from a different planet. _He never understands me. _Sam let out a sigh, only for it to be interrupted by a throaty cough. Dad was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice, as he was staring at his hands clasped together on the table, but that was normal. Dean was the one who always made sure the family was in good health.

Loathing for the man sitting beside him caused Sam to close his book and head to bed. He said a half hearted 'good night' to his dad before leaving him to sit alone. _If he wants to go get plastered then he can deal with the results himself. _He knew he really should stay with his dad, but Sam just couldn't bring himself to.

Sam checked on Dean, before flopping down on his bed. His eyes were starting to feel heavy …

"_Sam? Sammy?"_

Eyes flying open with a start, Sam found himself facing his father and brother. Only, these two guys couldn't be Dad and Dean, they looked too happy, too – normal. Dad was wearing a suit, the jacket slung over his shoulder, and he was smiling proudly at Sam. Dean had on a button down shirt and even had his hair smoothed back respectably.

"C'mon sleeping beauty, you're going to miss it!"

"Miss what?" Sam questioned, sitting up in the lush grass he was currently sprawled on.

"Your graduation!" Dean reached out and ruffled Sam's hair affectionately. "I know you're nervous, but forgetful? That's just not like you, Sammy."

Sam stood up, and wiped his hands on the back of his pants. He noticed when he looked down that the ground was a lot farther away then he was used to. _I've grown, _he thought absently. "That's right, graduation is today. And then … "

"And then college," Dad said warmly while placing his arm around Sam's shoulders. "I'm real proud of you, son."

"College, right." And before Sam could think about it any more, he was on stage receiving his diploma.

He couldn't describe the feeling that filled him when that crisp piece of paper was placed in his hand, but it was almost as unbelievable as the feeling Sam got when his dad and brother hugged him good bye as he went to make his own way in life. Sam gradually forgot everything about hunting, and apparently Dad and Dean did too. Dean started a family, and Dad bought a home and opened an auto shop.

It was all so perfect; Sam never wanted it to end.

"_Sam? Sammy?"_

But of course, all good things come to an end. Sam woke up in a daze, and was hoping that the dream had started all over again, but the disgruntled face of his brother told him better. Sam glanced towards the bedside clock, and groaned when he found it was already twelve in the afternoon.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty," Dean said, forcing a small smile to form despite the massive head ache he had to have. "We've got training."

"Yeah, rise and shine," Sam repeated quietly to himself, reality hitting him like a bucket of cold water.

-SN-

Sweat dripped into his eyes from his drenched hair, stinging and making Sam's training even worse. Currently located in some middle-of-nowhere field that Dad had set up as an obstacle course, Sam had just finished going through for the fourth time. Dean was already on his sixth round, racing Sam and winning.

"C'mon, Sam, pick up your knees!"

Sam silently cursed his father. His lungs were on fire and he couldn't work any harder then he was already. This was only proven when Sam went to put his left foot into a different tire, and missed completely, causing himself to trip and fall over. Dean paused from where he was hopping between some logs, and almost moved to come help Sam up, but continued on when Sam drug himself back onto his feet.

Dad was in his face the next second, shouting at him to stop being such a little girl and to get moving. This was normal for when Dad got into his 'drill instructor' mode, but Sam was so tired he yelled right back at his dad.

"I'm trying! If you'd shut up I could focus!" Sam managed to get out in one breath, face turning even redder then it was before from exasperation.

Shocked, it took Dad a moment to regain his composure from being spoken back to. "Drop and give me one hundred," he ground out and then added," On your knuckles."

The sun affecting his brain, Sam shot back," How about with one hand behind my back?"

"That sounds good, let's see you do it," Dad challenged, stepping back to give him room to get down on the ground.

Sam gladly did. By the time he pushed out his final one hundredth, Dean had joined their father to watch. While Dad remained emotionless, Dean smiled proudly when Sam stood back up. He waited until Dad left to get their rifles from the Impala for target practice before he dared to congratulate Sam.

"Good job, Sammy. Way to take the punishment."

Sam barely heard the words, as his eyes were starting to swim with visions of deep purples, greens and black. That meant only one thing. Before he had the chance to pass out, Sam leaned against his older brother.

"Sammy, are you okay?" Dean asked, voice ringing with alarm.

"Y-yeah, give me a sec," Sam said, gripping Dean's shoulder to keep from falling over.

When the dizziness passed, Sam bent over to get his water bottle. After squirting most of the contents into his mouth, Sam poured the rest over his head and smiled appreciatively. The cold water felt great. _I must just be tired from the push ups, _Sam told himself when his legs wobbled beneath him when he took a step to throw the empty bottle into his bag.

Dean watched him with concern, but didn't say anything. Dad came back soon with their rifles and started ordering them around and instructing them on what their mission was. Sam forced himself to stay on his feet through the rest of training, pure stubbornness fueling his body. It wasn't until that evening when they came home and Sam claimed to be taking a shower, he allowed himself to collapse on the bathroom floor.

His forehead leaned against the cool bathtub, Sam stayed like that for nearly fifteen minutes. When he managed to get to his feet and actually take his shower, Dean was waiting at the door for his turn to shower, singing a rather 'creative' song. By the fourth stanza, when Sam was blushing just listening to the lyrics, Dad yelled at Dean to cut it out.

"Yes sir," Dean grumbled back. "I was just getting to the good part too … "

Sam stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Is that the one you wrote for Mrs. Vern?"

Dean grinned. "Yep."

"Oh God, no wonder we could hear her yelling from across the school," Sam said, and then heightened his voice to an annoyingly high pitch for the next part," Alexander Winchester!"

"Ah, that was great," Dean said, the memory playing in his mind.

Sam leaned against the bathroom's doorframe. "I forgot to ask, how was your date last night?"

Dean drfited back to the present, taking a moment to process Sam's question. "It got cut short. She didn't go for Kashmir. I'll have to try speaking Latin to her or something like that next time, to get her in the mood."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Did you even try talking to her?"

"Sammy, I'm offended! Alexander Winchester is a gentleman, not some lusty teenager."

"Yeah, what about Dean Winchester?"

"That's a different story … "

Sam shook his head in disbelief. He moved out of the doorway so his brother could get into the shower. Dean started up his singing once more, only this time a less inappropriate song, if AC/DC's 'Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap' could be considered that. Sam got dressed in his room, and reemerged with the towel draped over his head while he attempted to dry his hair.

Dad came into the hallway and watched Sam. After remaining silent for a while, he finally determined Sam needed a hair cut. After voicing his opinion, Sam gave him a pointed look.

"We signed a contract, Dad, I've got at least another week."

"I don't know why I even agreed to sign that thing," Dad muttered to himself, before disappearing into his room.

Sam figured he must be working on a new case, and went into the living room to give him space. Dean joined him shortly; taking over the TV Sam had just turned on.

"Hm … Doesn't look like anything good is on," Dean observed, flipping through the ten channels they had just from plugging the cable wire in. "Maybe we could watch one of my movies – "

"No way!" Sam said hurriedly," I'll pick the movie."

"Aw, c'mon Sammy, you've got to grow up sometime!" Dean called after his little brother's retreating back.

_One day he's accusing me of watching his movies, the next he wants me to watch them. _Sam let out a huff, grabbing one of their old Godzilla tapes to watch. Coming back into the living room, Sam prayed the tape player didn't eat Godzilla, because he would just about kill himself. It was the only one that remained with all the scenes intact, unlike the rest of their small collection of tapes that were worn out from being used all the time.

"Work you stupid thing." Sam hit the top of the tape player, and the TV screen jumped to life. "Awesome."

Sitting back down, Sam was just starting to get into the movie when the phone started to ring. There was one in the living room and one in their dad's room, so Sam wait to answer until eh was sure Dad wasn't. By the third ring, Sam was scrambling over his older brother's legs to get to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sam?"

"Oh, hi Lori."

Sam picked up the base of the phone and brought it into the dining room, where Godzilla wasn't booming into the speaker. He was followed by cat calls, which Sam answered with a one finger salute.

"Right now isn't a bad time, is it?" Lori asked, and Sam could swear he heard giggling in the background.

"No, no, now's fine," Sam said, choosing to ignore the sounds," What's up?"

There was silence, before Lori finally spoke again. "Oh, you know same old, same old. What about you?"

Sam grimaced as he thought about the days events. "The same," He managed to get out.

"Did you finish that English home work?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yep."

There was even more awkward silence, and Sam was afraid for a moment that Lori had hung up on him, but then her voice came over the line.

"So … I was wondering if – "

Lori was cut off when Dad's voice came in, ordering Sam to get off the phone in one minute. Sam cursed his father for such crappy timing.

"What were you saying?" Sam prodded, hoping Lori would continue with her question.

"Oh, uh, nothing, never mind. Well, I gotta go, so … see ya' tomorrow."

Sam put the phone back on the cradle. He stood staring at it for a moment, wondering what Lori was about to say, until Dean called him back into the living room.

"Who was that?" Dean asked, trying to sound uninterested.

"Lori, she's in my grade," Sam replied while putting the phone down on the side table.

Dean waggled his eye brows, losing the uninterested front. "Is she hot?"

Sam pretended to be focused on the television. Dean didn't investigate any further, because the phone started ringing again and Sam jumped to answer it, hoping it was Lori calling to ask her question again.

"Hello?" Sam asked, trying to keep the anxiousness from his words.

"John?"

The small, female voice had Sam drawing back from the phone with a confused look. "One moment please," he said when he'd recovered, then covered the mouth piece to the phone and yelled for Dad to get the phone.

When he hung up, Sam gave Dean a questioning look. "Do you know if Dad's been hanging out with nay chick's?"

"Not that I know of, why?"

"No reason … " Sam could almost swear the woman on the other line had sounded familiar, but maybe it was a hunter his dad had met with before and Sam had just heard her speaking?

Settling in to watch the rest of 'Godzilla vs. Mothera,' Sam tried not to think about who his father was talking to. _It's none of my business; maybe he called her for information or something. Or she's his girl friend. _Like that would ever happen. Sam eventually let himself get enveloped in the movie, making comments and laughing along with his brother.

* * *

**a/n: **I was supposed to have this up sooner, but somehow the scenes kept on extending ... Well, quality over quickness, I guess.

By the way, if anyone wanted to leave a review, there would be no complaints from me.


	7. Paranoid

Battle of Evermore

Sharp Shooter - Pony

* * *

Chapter Six; _Paranoid_

**Disclaimer; I own nothing.**

* * *

Darkness surrounded him, only the sliver of moonlight that came through the curtains and caught in the glass of his whiskey bottle shone. John stared into the caramel liquid, wishing it would give him the answers he needed, to solve all of his problems for him. His eyes briefly flicked to the door as the echo of his sons' laughter filled the house. _My boys. _John tilted his head back and let the whiskey burn its way down his throat.

The phone interrupted his drinking, and John wondered if it was the same girl that Sam had been talking to just a little while ago. If it was, John was going to have to have a talk with Sam about getting a job to cover the phone bill. But a moment later, his youngest called over the noise of their movie to tell John the phone call was for him.

Picking up the phone in his room, John spoke softly into it. "Hello?"

"John, we need to talk."

He could feel a migraine coming on as he recognized the voice. "I thought we agreed you wouldn't call me at my house."

The honey sweet voice on the other line simply laughed; "Why, John, don't want the boys wondering about me? Don't worry yourself over such trivial things." And then her voice turned business like. "Now, why I called; I need to know if you're committed."

John swallowed thickly. "Can we do this later?"

"No, John, I have other clients waiting. I've been patient with you, but I need an answer."

"I'm … I'm not sure," John said, grimacing inwardly at the weakness in his words. "How can I be certain this will work?"

"Trust me, Johnny; it'll work," The woman said soothingly, then added," As long as you keep up your side of the deal."

"The moneys no problem," John confirmed, and then let out a deep breath. "When will we meet for the first session?"

"That's my boy. We'll have our first session next week, and bring along the first payment."

John heard the call cut off, but he didn't hang the phone up. He stayed motionless, staring at the wall blankly. His thoughts were all over the place, telling him he'd acted too quickly, hadn't thought it through, but then he remembered what was to come from the deal, and his mind made a u-turn and told him he'd acted too slowly and he should've agreed sooner. John lent down so he was holding his face in his hands, the phone lying awkwardly on the bedside table.

He wasn't sure how long he'd stayed like that, but it was enough time for whatever movie the boys were watching to end. Dean slipped into John's room silently and placed the phone back on its cradle, the only telling of his presence the light flooding into the room from the hall way. John could feel his eldest son watching him.

"You turning in for the night, Dad?" Dean finally spoke, moving to take the whiskey bottle from the floor where John had set it and place it on the bedside table.

John nodded tiredly, suddenly over come with grogginess. "Yeah."

Dean's face held a look John couldn't quite place. "I'll iron your work shirt and leave it on the end of the bed for you."

"Thanks, son," John said as he slipped into his bed.

"No problem," Dean said while backing out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind his son and the room was again plunged into darkness. John's head sank into his pillow in an attempt to get comfortable, but the hunter knew he wouldn't be falling asleep for a while.

-SN-

The Impala glided through the morning fog on John's way to work. He'd just dropped off Sam and Dean at school, and was now mentally preparing himself for his day at work. His mind kept on drifting back to the looks his youngest son kept giving him; whether if it was over his bowl of cereal, or from the backseat, Sam would look at him with furrowed eye brows like he was trying to solve a problem. Now, the expression was normal for Sam, who was a quizzical kid, but John had never had the look aimed at him before.

John shook of the image, refocusing on the road as he turned into his work. Jack was already sitting out front on the bench with two other old time mechanics, all three chatting over coffee. _Probably going to sit like that all day, not doing a damn thing while I work my ass off._ John's mouth was a thin line of determination; hard work was never a complaint for him, but lazy people could push him over the edge, so he had to fight to keep back comments that would get him fired.

_God, do I need this job or what?_

Getting out of the Impala, John patted his baby's roof in parting, before walking over to join the three men.

"Johnny! We were just talkin' about ya'," Jack greeted, flashing his pearly whites cheerfully.

John eyed the other two mechanics, Gary Sterling and Stephen Coletti, whose faces didn't display nearly as much enthusiasm. In fact, they held loathing. John ignored them, _They just don't like the new guy coming in and showing them up. _Which was exactly what John had done the Friday before, when an elderly woman had come in with a smoking'59 Buick. Neither Gary nor Stephen could find the source of the problem, but John had been able to.

To be polite, John said back," Oh, really?' He didn't elaborate, not wanting to get into a real conversation with his boss. Sure, Jack was alright, but if you said one thing that reminded him of his granddaughter, the man would go on endlessly, and it annoyed the shit out of John. It didn't help he was currently nursing a killer headache, too.

"Yep, was just telling Gary here about your boys and how y'all move around all the time."

John shoved his hands deep into his pant's pockets, uncomfortable with others talking about his family. "Is that so?"

"Must be tough raising two boys on your own," Gary said, entering the conversation.

"They're good kids," John said curtly, wanting to end the discussion.

Gary squinted his eyes at John. "Really? You'd think without a mother they'd be – "

"My family is none of your business, Sterling," John grounded out, starting to lose his patience.

"Why are you getting so defensive, Winchester?" Gary was wearing a taunting smile, his forty years of arrogance evident.

John stepped menacingly towards the older mechanic and Gary stood up to face John challengingly. Jack quickly jumped up to get in between them before a fight could break out.

"Whoa, whoa! Cool off fella's." Jack anxiously chuckled. "I think its time we get to work. John, there's a Camaro in the shop that needs looked at, why don't you start there?"

_Right. _John shot Gary a final threatening glare, before stocking off towards the garage. Before he entered the building, Carl, the front counter guy, stepped out of the attached gas station.

"There's a call for Winchester from Columbus High," He squeaked.

Heart rate picking up, John changed direction and hurried into the store. _Calm down, Johnny, they're probably just calling to confirm an address or something. _No emotion showed on his face as he took the phone from Carl's out stretched, which was slightly shaking from the presence of the intimidating man. John turned away from the skittish man with slight disgust. _He'd never make it in a tough situation._

"Hello?" John spoke formidably into the phone, again keeping his apprehensiveness hidden.

"Mr. Winchester?"

"This is him."

The woman cleared her throat. "You're being called because of a disciplinary infraction your sons, Alexander and Samuel, have made. You're going to need to come to the school."

John squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his headache spike painfully. "I'm at work right now … "

"As long as you're here before five p.m. they'll be waiting, unless another legal guardian can be sent."

"No, I'm the only one," John said, unconsciously worrying at his bottom lip," I'll be there by four."

"Okay, I'll let Mr. Hayes know. Come to the principal's office when you get here."

John handed the phone back to Carl once the woman on the other end hung up. _Mr. Hayes is the principal, I thought it was Mrs. Hillman …_ After so many schools, John couldn't keep up.

Everyone was busy when John entered the garage, so he told Jack briefly that he'd need to get off early. Jack said that was no problem, and then John went off to start working on the Camaro. It was a nice car, but the brakes were starting to go.

John got so involved in his work; his mind taken away from his problems, that he barely even noticed when a mud caked Gremlin came screeching into the parking lot. The owner of the car came loping into the garage searching for a mechanic to check out his sputtering vehicle and happened upon John.

"Hey, I need someone to check out my – "The man stopped talking just as John turned to face him. "John?"

John recognized the man right away as a fellow hunter. "Travis, what are you doing here?"

"Working a job nearby," Travis answered, a smile spreading across his lips." I didn't know you where in the area."

"Just got into town a couple weeks ago," John said while throwing a grease covered rag over his shoulder," What did you break on that old piece of junk this time?"

John followed the other hunter outside. The two of them had been close since they'd hunted a mean rakshas together, but as with most hunting connections, John didn't share much personal information with Travis; like where he'd be hunting for a while. The shorter man didn't mind though, Travis knew that was just how it worked.

"There she is," Travis said proudly as he opened the hood for John to peer under. "Don't know what's wrong this time, but it sure was a bumpy ride here."

John grimaced when he caught sight of the inside of the Gremlin. It looked even worse then the outside. "Did you ever think of getting a job professionally screwing up cars? It would keep an army of mechanics in business."

Travis chuckled at John's seriousness when it came to cars. "I'll have to think about that. So, what have you and the boys been up to?"

"Shit." John nearly banged his head against the car's hood as he straightened himself out again. "I almost forgot – What time is it?"

Travis raised an eye brow, but brought his wrist up so he could look at his watch. "Nearly a quarter 'til four, why?"

John wiped his hands off on his rag to try and rid his hands of car grease and oil, but decided it was a hopeless cause. He rushed back to the garage so he could clock out and grab his keys, Travis trailing behind him.

"What's wrong, John?"

"I have to go get the boys from school."

Travis could tell it wasn't a normal event, and backed off. "Okay, but do you mind if I hitch a ride with you so I'm not stranded?"

"If you hurry," John said while shrugging on his jacket.

After Travis grabbed his few possessions from his car, John tore off down the road. By the time they pulled into Columbus High School's parking lot, Travis was wishing he'd thought twice before asking for the ride.

"You drive like a bat out of hell," He admonished with wide eyes.

"You would too if your kids were sitting in the principal's office, probably throwing spit balls at people," John said off handedly as he got out of the Impala.

He strode into the school, leaving Travis waiting in the Impala, and tried to think of where the principal's office was. It didn't take him too long to locate the room, as Sam and Dean were sitting outside of it on two plastic chairs. They were huddled close together, and John could tell they were both chewing something.

"Boys?" John addressed, halting his brisk steps in front of Sam and Dean.

"Dad," They said in unison, both quickly spitting out the small wads of paper they'd had in their mouths.

_And Jim says I don't know my kids. _John was about to ask the two teenagers what the hell they had done, when a balding man stepped out from behind a door.

"Mr. Winchester, you finally showed up! We were beginning to worry you wouldn't show." The man extended his hand good naturedly, but John took his words in offense and hesitated to return the gesture.

"Of course, I mean no harm, just a little joking." When John didn't crack a smile, the man cleared his throat. "I'm Mr. Hayes, the principal, please step into my office."

John entered a brightly lit room with academic plaques lining the walls. He sat down awkwardly in an overly stuffed chair opposite Mr. Hayes at his desk.

"As Mrs. Kim has told you, Samuel and Alexander have made a disciplinary infraction," Mr. Hayes began, and John inwardly rolled his eyes." One of our students, Jamie Grant, was found cornered in the gym by your sons. The three had been fighting, two against one, and Jamie was yelling for help when he caught the attention of the gym teacher."

_I swear, if those two don't have a good story … _John let out a sigh, shutting his eyes as the principal continued.

"This isn't the first time either, Mr. Winchester. Apparently, the first day of school Samuel broke Jamie's nose."

"You mean Alexander," John corrected, figuring the principal didn't know what he was talking about.

Mr. Hayes shook his head. "No, it was your youngest, Samuel. Jamie said Alexander only came in when Samuel was threatening him at the end of gym class."

John glared at the man. "Sam was threatening him? Tell me, how old is this Jamie kid?"

Mr. Hayes hesitated to answer," He's a junior."

"So, what, sixteen or seventeen?' John couldn't help but smile. _Good job, Sam._

"I assure you, Mr. Winchester, this isn't a light matter. Although we still must have a meeting with you, your sons, Jamie and his parents, it is most likely your boys will end up with at least a week's suspension for this."

John leaned forward in his seat. "Tell me, Mr. Hayes, does Sam look like the bullying type?" The elder man shifted, remaining silent. "He's too smart. Besides, he's the new kid. What new kid picks a fight with a junior?"

"I – I suppose you're right," Mr. Hayes finally relented," Jamie has been involved in other situations where he didn't tell the whole truth."

_So you were stupid enough to believe him? _John cringed at the thought of this man running a whole school. _How the hell did he get this job?_

"Do you mind if I take my boys home now?" John asked as he pulled himself from the uncomfortable chair.

Mr. Hayes looked like he was deep in thought, but then looked up with a large smile. "Of course, I'll call you tomorrow to let you know when to come back in for a meeting with Jamie's parents also."

John said good bye, before leaving the room with a confused expression. Sam and Dean stood up to join him as John started down the hall way, and Dean picked up on the look.

"What is it, Dad?"

"Mr. Hayes … "

"He's not the sharpest tool in the shed?" Sam finished and John nodded.

Dean smirked, sharing a look with his younger brother. "Told you I wasn't the only one who noticed."

John strode beside his sons, who began to shove each other's shoulders good naturedly, and found his mind coasting back in time to when he was a teenager. He was maybe Sam's age when he started working at his father's garage for pay, and even though he worked his ass off, he remembered fondly hanging out with his buddies. After work they'd smoke, maybe have a few beers here and there, and tell bull shit stories. His closest friends had been Ted Rivers and Henry Paschal. John didn't know whatever happened to those two, and if he had the time, he might look them up. _But c'mon Johnny, you know there are more important things then old high school contacts._

"You day dreaming, Winchester ?"

John realized he was already sitting in the Impala once again, Sam and Dean talking excitedly with Travis. The ladder grinned as John came back to the present, and John flipped him off in return.

"Hey Dad?" Dean spoke from the back seat over a soaring guitar riff playing on the radio.

"Yeah?"

"Travis doesn't have a place to stay, is it okay if he crashes with us?"

John turned questioningly towards the said hunter. Travis shrugged innocently. "What? I hadn't planned to stay long and ran out of funds."

"Fine, you can stay on the couch."

Dean and Sam high-fived each other and Travis nodded his appreciation.

"But, there's one thing you have to agree to," John said, interrupting the excitement. The three other occupants of the car fell silent. "You have to train with us."

Travis rolled his eyes heavenward to try and pray for patience. "John, you must be kidding."

"No I'm not; the boys can't slack off on their training." A confident smile spread across the eldest Winchester's face. "You and Dean against me and Sam in football tonight, or no deal."

Knowing his competitive buddy, Travis returned John's grin. "You'll be wishing you just let me stay for free when you get your ass handed to you."

The Impala roared through the streets of Columbus, the hunters inside at peace for the time being. John was going to ignore Sam and Dean's fighting as long as it didn't happen again and he was going to help Travis with his case while keeping up at work. But in the back of his mind, John knew plans changed. Something in his gut said that things weren't going to stay normal, and his mind couldn't stay off of his meeting the next week. One screw up and his family could pay for it.

* * *

**a/n: **Sorry it took me so long to update - life caught up with me, along with the keyboard breaking. Let me tell you something, the on screen key board is not fun.


	8. Portrait He Knew

Battle of Evermore

Sharp Shooter - Pony

* * *

Chapter Seven; _Portrait (He Knew)_

**Disclaimer; I own nothing**

* * *

Worn out from getting tackled countless times and scoring five touchdowns, Sam collapsed onto the lumpy living room couch. He was beat from the intense foot ball game that had just finished at the score 22 to 20, and so was everyone else. Dean was currently in the kitchen lapping up cup after cup of water, while Dad and Travis had taken seats at the dining room table with a couple of beers. Travis was fanning himself with one of Sam's library books, and Dad was still wiping sweat off his brow.

"You've got two true athletes, John," Travis averred, chuckling good heartedly," Damn near passed out trying to catch that youngest of yours. I thought you said he was the brainy one?"

For what must have been the first time in months, Dad grinned. Sam was surprised his face didn't crack from the strain. "Sam keeps in shape running to the library," Dad said, his deep gaze averting to Sam for a moment. "He's always bringing back the thickest books he can find."

"That's not true," Sam shot, then pointed to the book Travis was holding," That one isn't thick."

Travis stopped using the text as a fan and read the title. "A recipe book?" He shot Sam a questioning look.

Sam just shrugged in response. _Dean's cooking could use some diversity. _He peeled his bangs from his forehead and pushed them to the side before standing up and going into the kitchen to turn on some music. Sam knew country wouldn't fly with Dad and Travis around, so he tuned in to a local rock station. It wasn't exactly classic rock, but it was hopefully close enough.

Spinning a hand towel into a tight form, Dean came up behind Sam and whipped the back of his little brother's leg with it. "Good game, you and Dad almost beat us."

Only slightly irritated by the now stinging sensation in his leg, Sam didn't bother to hit his brother back. "You only won because Travis tripped me."

"Keep telling yourself that, shorty," Dean said with a grin, perfect white teeth taunting Sam.

Not falling for the bait, Sam retorted," One day I'll be taller than you, and I'll be the one calling you shorty. Just you wait, it'll happen."

"Gonna find yourself some fairy dust to do that?" Dean teased.

This time Sam landed a solid punch to Dean's shoulder, and the brothers were sure to get into one of their wrestling matches had it not been for the complaints of the older men in the dining room distracting them. Oblivious to anything outside their conversation, Sam and Dean hadn't noticed Nirvana playing over the radio, but Travis and Dad had.

"Turn that shit off," Travis said in disgust.

Sam rolled his eyes, but followed the order; turning the radio off grudgingly.

For the next hour or so, Sam and Dean stayed in the kitchen and talked about random subjects that came to mind while occasionally fetching beers for their dad and Travis. It wasn't until Dad said he was going to head in for the night that Sam and Dean came out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Travis motioned for them to take a seat at the table with him.

"So what have you boys been up to?" Travis asked, and then added with a chuckle," Other than beating kids up, that is."

Dean joked around about scoring with various girls at their high school, but Sam couldn't help but see right through Dean's trophy winning smile and see that his brother really was busting at the seems to tell Travis about what had been really going on at home. Dean was just as concerned about Dad as Sam was, if not more, from his recent actions. Sam grimaced when he remembered hunting without Dad. It had to be weighing on his older brother, but either Dean didn't want to drag Travis into it, or he didn't want to voice his worries with Sam around.

"I'm gonna take a shower then hit the hay myself," Dean finally said with a yawn, standing up and stretching," Don't stay up too late Sammy, we're going for a run tomorrow morning."

_Sure, like you're getting up any earlier than twelve. _Sam could tell from his brother's sluggish movements that Dean was exhausted from the week, so he wasn't going to worry about what time he turned in. Or maybe he could get up early and torture Dean, maybe with a little Loretta Lynn for an alarm clock …

Sam's devious thoughts were interrupted though when Travis cleared his throat.

"You've been awfully quiet, something on your mind?" The older hunter asked, watching Sam for a reaction.

Trained in the art of lying and masking emotions, Sam kept his face and body in the same calm state they'd previously been in, but his heart and mind were racing inside him. _Should I tell him or let it drop?_

Eyes darting to the hall way first, checking for any signs of his father or brother, Sam relented and told Travis about what had been going on in the past month with Dad. Travis nodded his head along, but didn't say anything until Sam was finished. The teenager felt ten times lighter getting that off his chest, and he was glad Travis had let him do it all at once without any questions.

"John really let you two go off on your own?" Travis asked disbelievingly. "He must have a good reason, but it just doesn't sound like him. John loves you two too much."

Sam held back a snort at that last part. _Loves us too much? Freakin' hilarious. _He kept himself from commenting, showing the same respect for Travis as he had for Sam. The two remained in thoughtful silent for a little while, Sam trying to remember a time when Dad had shown him and Dean how much he loved them.

Finally, Sam broke the silence. "Why are you in Columbus, anyway?"

"Checking out the deaths at one of the local hospitals," Travis said off handedly, and then scanned the titles of the books at the table. "And by the looks of it, so are you."

Sam shrugged. "I was interested. Do you have any idea what's behind it?"

"I've got some in mind, but I'm not for sure." Travis checked the watch on his wrist," You best be heading off to bed now, before that brother of yours comes looking for you."

"I'm not a little kid," Sam argued half heartedly, sleepiness tugging at his eye lids," But I guess I don't want to worry Dean."

Travis winked at Sam. "Right."

-SN-

A week later and Travis was still investigating. Sam was doing some investigating work of his own, but currently he was sitting in the school yard with his friends, eating lunch and just hanging out. Sam liked living in the south, because down south in months like October, when the air would start to hold a biting chill to it up north, it was still pleasantly warm.

He stretched his feet out in front of him on the grass and tried to soak up the sunlight to soothe his aching bones. All the symptoms of fatigue, head aches, and just overall crappiness that he'd gotten after first coming to Columbus had hit Sam hard the night before, and he still wasn't feeling much better. While listening to Jose and Carson talk, Sam tried to ignore the nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Is she really in love this time, or is it just another hot guy she fell for?" Carson was asking, a disbelieving tone to his voice.

Jose fluttered his eye lashes as he imitated his sister," It's for real this time, me and Alex are like, so totally in love."

Carson bust out in laughter at the impersonation, but Sam's ears caught the name Alex and wondered if it was his brother Jose's sister was going out with. Now that he thought about it, Dean had mentioned his date's name was Faye.

Sam smirked. "Your sister's boyfriend doesn't happen to pick her up in an old black car, does he?"

Jose looked confused, but nodded. "He drives an old Chevy model."

"Alex is my brother," Sam said, amazed that Dean managed to hook up with his friend's sister.

"No really?" Jose spoke with his accented voice. "Then no offense when I say your bro's crazy for going out with Faye, she's bossy and mean and thinks she knows everything."

"No offense taken," Sam said with a small smile.

Lori started to say what a coincidence that was, but Sam became distracted by an over powering feeling in his gut. _Great, I'm going to throw up at school. _He took deep breaths to try and keep his stomach at bay, but then Sam started to cough. Something metallic tasting came out of his throat and into his hand.

Looking down, Sam froze when he saw a glob of bloody goo. This was not good. Luckily, none of his friends saw it and Sam was able to wipe the mess onto the grass covertly, but now his heart rate started to pick up. Why was he coughing up bloody phlegm? That sounded just like the beginning of –

"I gotta go you guys, just remembered something I forgot in my locker," Sam said hurriedly, collecting his back pack and lunch before heading back inside the school building.

When he got to his locker, Sam grabbed out the book on tuberculosis that had articles he'd cut from the newspaper on the strange deaths at St. Elizabeth's. In one article it said that the beginning stages of the patients illness was what seemed like a cold, then it would go away for a couple of weeks and come back with a vengeance. Sam squeezed his eyes shut. _Oh shit. _

Opening his eyes back up, he thought he caught sight of a woman at the corner of his vision. Whipping around, Sam just caught the sight of a strand of long blond hair disappearing behind a corner. _This is just what I need! _Sam took off after the woman, who he recognized had the features of the one he constantly caught a glimpse of at night.

"Hey, come back!" he shouted down the hall, but when he turned the corner found no one in sight.

He ran around the connecting corridors, but found no sign of the woman anywhere. By the time he was back at his locker, Sam felt like he'd just ran a marathon, and he had troubles keeping his breathing regular. _That would be the fatigue._ The school bell started to ring to signal the end of lunch period, and Sam found himself caught in the mob of students trying to get to their lockers before class.

Ignoring the throbbing head ache he had and the great effort it took to keep moving, Sam made it through the rest of the school day, but by the time he got onto the bus and was seated next to Dean, he thought he would die if he walked another step.

"Hey Sammy," Dean greeted cheerily, but faltered when he got a good look at his little brother. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Sam lied, forcing his eye lids up so he didn't look so tired. "I just need a nap is all."

Dean grinned. "What, are you four?"

Sam couldn't work up the energy to punch Dean, so he pretended to give him the silent treatment for the comment. Dean thought that was a normal enough response and turned on his walkman, getting lost in his music. _At least he won't worry, _Sam told himself while mentally preparing for the rest of the day until he could talk to Travis alone that night.

Unfortunately, life wasn't giving Sam a break. After having the substitute bus driver miss their stop nearly three times, Sam stumbled off the bus with the hope of lying down as soon as he got home. But the moment he walked in the door, the phone started ringing. It was Jose asking if Sam wanted to go to the arcade with him and Carson, which Sam politely turned down with the excuse of having a lot of homework. Dean heard this, and after Sam hung up the phone, started interrogating him on why he'd told Jose that when he'd just told Dean a few minutes earlier he didn't have any.

"It's not normal, Sammy," Dean was saying, his words slipping through one of Sam's ears and out the other," I'm the one who lies, not you."

"Look, I'm tired, okay?" Sam finally snapped, throwing his book bag on the floor before stomping to their room.

He felt like a little kid when he threw himself onto his bed, like he was having a temper tantrum, but hopefully the performance would stop Dean from bugging him any more. _Any other time he'd be off with Faye or playing some pool, but no, today he's got to stay home. _Sam figured that was just his luck.

When he finished glaring at the wall and all of his irritation had seeped out and he was left feeling deflated, Sam's thoughts went back to whatever sickness he had. _I'll sleep for an hour or so now, then go to the library. Maybe it'll be easier to research what could possibly do this, now that I'm one of the victims. _Sam thought back to the image of the beautiful woman. She must have something to do with it, and Sam bet if he asked around, he'd find out some of the other victim's had seen her too.

_I wish Travis would come back already. _Sam drifted off to sleep with that thought.

-SN-

"Wow, Sammy, you weren't kidding about being tired," Dean admonished as Sam walked zombie like into the kitchen where Dean was currently cooking some rice and chicken.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Sam croaked, rubbing tiredly at his mess of brown hair that was angled oddly towards the ceiling. "I wanted to go to the library."

Dean glanced toward the clock, which blinked back at him '7:55.' He turned back to his cooking. "Guess you're not going today."

"No kidding," Sam said while struggling to pull himself onto the counter to sit.

"Are you hungry?" Dean asked after a moment.

Sam took in the scent of the food. Any other time it would have smelled delicious, but now it was almost vomit inducing. "No, not really."

"You're not hungry?" Dean asked in disbelief, even pausing from adding spices to the chicken to stare at his little brother open mouthed. "Since when?"

"Since now," Sam shot back. He searched for a topic to change the subject, so Dean wouldn't continue to ask questions. "Is Travis back yet?"

"No, I think him and Dad were going out to the bar," Dean said, focusing his attention on stirring the rice so it didn't burn.

Sam shook his head. _I think I'm cursed. _He slid off the counter and sauntered into the living room, taking one of the Norse mythology books he'd gotten from the library with him. His head felt about ten times larger than normal, but he needed to get to the bottom of this sickness before it was too late. _Too late being about five days from now, when I won't have enough energy to stay conscious. _

Sam forced himself to focus as he opened the book, and his eyes immediately fell on the page that held the title 'Norns.'

They were creatures that normally took on the form of a beautiful, almost divine looking, woman. _Just like the one I've been seeing! _Norns could change the future, and among their powers to do so was bending what happened in the past. Some of these creatures were benevolent and performed small favors for those they saw fit, but most were malevolent and tricked men into deals they wouldn't fulfill. These deals usually consisted of the man offering some sort of sacrifice in payment for whatever the Norns were supposed to do, and then the Norn would then steal the life force from the sacrifice.

Lori said Sara's father wouldn't even see his dying daughter_, Maybe because of guilt?_ It would fit. If only Sam had some way of questioning the guy - like if there was an adult to help him, who could pose as some sort of grief counselor. _Why did Dad and Travis have to choose tonight to go out? _Sam supposed maybe Dean could act old enough for the job, but did he really want to tell Dean about what was going on? His brother had seemed so at ease lately ….

"Sammy!"

_Speaking of the devil, _Sam thought as his brother sat down on the couch next to him with a beer. He'd finished eating dinner and had come to disrupt Sam. _All he does is eat, sleep and bother me._

"Hey Dean," Sam said with gritted teeth, trying to hide his irritation," Dad know you're getting into his beer?"

Dean waved off his brother's concerns. "What are you reading, Geek-Tron?"

"Stuff," Sam answered shortly, unappreciative of the nickname.

"Must be interesting," Dean said, slowly inching closer to Sam so he could read over his shoulder.

Noticing the action, Sam looked at the page number on the book and mentally catalogued it before slamming the thick text shut and placing it on the floor at his feet. He couldn't leave a page mark, or Dean would want to check out what he was reading, because the only time Sam didn't want his brother to read something was when he decided to.

"Are you trying to hide something, Sammy?" Dean eyed his little brother suspiciously.

Sam's heart rate started to pick up; because Dean could always tell when Sam was lying, but luck finally showed itself to Sam when the phone started to ring and it happened to be Faye on the other line.

"Thank God," Sam whispered to himself.

He shut his eyes to calm his racing heart, but accidentally let himself slip into sleep. It wasn't hard, with the dull thump of his heart echoing in his over sensitive mind, serenading him to sleep in a way only a sick person's body could. What Sam didn't know at the time was that this was going to be one of his last peaceful nights for a while.

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**a/n: **Sorry for the wait! It took a classic country cd to inspire me to finish this chapter. Amazing, no? If you're ever bored, I suggest picking up a Johnny Cash album. John Winchester will never be far from your mind while you're listening to it.


	9. Disposable Heroes

Battle of Evermore

Sharp Shooter - Pony

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Chapter Eight; _Disposable Heroes_

**Disclaimer; I own nothing.**

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"We the people of the United States of America do ordain and establish – no, in order to form a more perfect union, provide … Provide? Shit." Dean glared at the ceiling of his bedroom, willing the rest of the preamble of the constitution to appear and engrain itself into his mind before the big U.S. Government test the next day. _How the hell am I supposed to remember what some dead guys wrote over two hundred years ago? And why the hell should I care?_

To distract his mind from the impending doom of the test, Dean turned his head to read his bedside clock. _Three a.m. _Three in the morning and Dean still couldn't get to sleep. He was on edge for some unknown reason, and it was really starting to piss him off. Maybe it was because he'd had to carry Sam to bed earlier, his little brother passed out on the couch showing no signs of waking in the near future. Sam was normally a light sleeper, but he didn't even move when Dean picked him up, just let his head fall limply back like some coma patient. _Sammy, you better not have a cold or something, because I swear, if you spread your nasty, snot nose disease to me again –_

A guttural scream broke through the silent night, and Dean's threats against his brother were forgotten. He jumped out of bed, ready to face anything while he charged down the hallway towards the source of the harsh sound. Dead had picked up his .45 along the way, but he knew the moment he toed the door to his father's bedroom open he didn't need it.

"No, no – "Dad was mumbling to himself and thrashing around on his bed, sheets tossed to the floor during his nightmare.

Dean stepped quietly to the side of the bed and set his pistol gently onto the bedside table, next to Dad's whiskey flask. Letting out a deep breath, Dean prepared himself to wake his father from one of his recurring nightmares of Vietnam. He did this, because occasionally Dad would jump for his M16 and freak when he didn't find it beside him and Dean would have to calm him down.

When he'd stopped moving as much and his breathing slightly slowed, Dean bent over and gave his dad's shoulder a firm shake. "Dad, wake up," He commanded, knowing from experience softness wouldn't penetrate through the fog of his father's mind in his current state. "John Winchester," Dean repeated, eyes focused solely on his dad and oblivious to the figure looming behind him.

Out of no where, Dad jumped awake. Eyes wild, he grabbed Dean in a choke hold that left the teenager flailing for control. Dean could feel the lack of oxygen reaching his lungs, and slowly felt his consciousness wavering. Fortunately before he started to see any spots, his dad's arm was wrenched from around his neck and pinned against the bed.

Dean hurried to pull himself away while Travis kept Dad restrained until he could get his bearings. _Why wasn't I ready for that? _His dad catching him by surprise left Dean fighting to keep control over his emotions, which were all telling him to be scared shitless. Taking a deep, shuttering breath, Dean watched as Travis loosened his grip on Dad when his eyes fell shut into a deep sleep again. He was totally unaware of what had just gone on, and Dean wanted to keep it that way.

"You okay?" Travis whispered as they crept into the hall way.

"Yeah," Dean said shortly, keeping his face hidden so Travis didn't see how bad his lip was quivering.

"Be more careful next time; a man who's gone to war isn't always in his right mind at night." Travis slipped into the darkness of the living room after his somewhat philosophical sounding words.

_Great, I looked like a kid in front of Travis. _Mentally kicking himself in the ass, Dean hauled his suddenly tired form back to bed. While moving his sheets aside to lie down, something caught Dean's attention. It had been a flash of color by the window, almost like Dean had seen the tail end of someone of something running out of sight. Hunter's instincts told him to check it out, but when Dean looked out the window, all he could see was a dog wandering out of the backyard.

"Stupid animal," Dean muttered, before getting back into his bed.

The middle Winchester drifted in and out of sleep for the rest of the night, or morning depending on how you looked at it, never fully asleep. By the time his alarm clock went off to signal he needed to get up to take his morning shower, Dean still felt worn out. _Damn, it must be my nerves. _The image of Dad catching him in a choke hold replayed in his mind and sent a shiver down his spine. _Hopefully my shower helps._

He trudged to the bathroom to take his shower. After using the bathroom and then undressing, Dean stepped into the stream of hot water. He let a small smile form on his full lips as the water cascaded down his back, instantly relieving any tension in his body. Dean relaxed and let his body go on autopilot, cleaning himself with little thought towards the task. It wasn't until Dean went to turn off the water that the rhythm left him.

When he turned to exit the shower, Dean was caught by surprise when he found an abnormally large and brown bug staring back at him with long, unnerving antennas from the floral shower curtain. "What the hell – "

Before he could swat the ugly cockroach out of the shower, the bathroom door was abruptly opened and Sam waltzed in to do his business. Dean smiled, a plan formulating in his mind.

"Hey Sammy, can you grab me a towel?" He called, cautious to leave a good distance between him and the enemy insect.

Sam grunted a 'yeah' and got a scratchy towel, which had probably been acquired from one of the various motels they had stayed in that didn't check inventory before the customer left. Sam stuck his hand with the said object in it around the curtain, and just as Dean had hoped, Sam had reached through the side next to the cockroach.

"Dude, what's that next to your hand?" Dean questioned nonchalantly.

"What's next to my – Oh my God!" Sam's still adjusting adolescent voice rose into a high crescendo as he spotted the insect and hurriedly pulled his arm safely away. "Dean!"

The last note Sam reached on Dean's name had been pretty impressive and the middle Winchester was sure his little brother was the envy of any banshee. _That was too good. _Dean chuckled to himself as he picked the soggy towel from the bottom of the tub that Sam had dropped in his haste and wrapped it around his waist. He stepped out of the shower, acting as if he wasn't a little paranoid with the cockroach still in the room.

"You're such a jerk!" Sam exclaimed, punching Dean solidly in the shoulder.

Dean just grinned back, unaffected by the hit that lacked Sam's ordinary strength. "And you're such a bitch. We've been over this how many times, Sammy?"

Sam didn't put up his usual fight, instead turning and walking away with a small huff. _Weird. _His little brother was generally such a drama queen - it made Dean wonder if it was possible Sam was actually his little sister - but now all of a sudden he was acting normal? Something was off, had been off for a while, and Dean wanted to get to the bottom of it.

-SN-

"Babe, I'm telling you, not right now."

Lunch time at Columbus High School, and Dean had yet to find out what was wrong with Sammy. On top of that, he had bombed his big U.S. Government test, so now Dad was going to bitch to him about keeping up grades so Dean didn't draw any attention to himself. To add to his stresses, Faye was hanging off of him, wanting some attention since Dean had blown her off when he'd first gotten to school.

Faye caressed the back of Dean's neck with her thumb. "Why are you so uptight?"

"That test earlier," Dean lied, meeting his girlfriend's deep brown eyes that searched his face with concern.

"You failed it?" Faye asked with a hint of suspicion in her words.

"Yeah, I don't know how. I studied all night, but it was useless, nothing stuck. This could really screw up my college plans …"

Dean had found it awkward at first to play the shy, brainy guy that he'd decided Alex would be around Faye. Now, he just found it really boring. _How can Sammy even consider this kind of life? _

Faye shifted her hand down to Dean's back and started rubbing circles there. "I'm sorry, Alex, I didn't know. Hey, do you want to go out tonight, to take your mind off it?"

"Maybe," Dean began to say, just as he spotted Sam coming out of the school with some of his friends. "I'll call you later, okay?"

Dean ignored Faye's calls coming from behind him, too intent on getting to his little brother and further investigating his abnormalities. But before he got close enough for his brother to notice him, Dean was grabbed roughly on the shoulder and spun around.

"Winchester."

The guy who ground out Dean's last name was a vicious 6"2' package of brute muscle with a decent amount of brains who went by 'Riff.' Riff's deep set eyebrows and snarling teeth weren't a good sign. _And now Alex's split personality comes back to kick me in the ass._ Dean got the feeling his ass and Riff's foot were going to get to know each other a lot better soon.

"Hey, Riff!" Dean chuckled, trying to calm the beast of an eighteen year old until they could get out of sight of any school officials. _And Sammy._

Riff started to lead Dean away from the other students and towards the back of the school. "Where were you last night? Me and the guys were counting on you."

"Yeah, about last night … " Dean mentally scanned himself, trying to remember if he had any kind of weapon to use in case he couldn't handle Riff with just his fists. "I wasn't really feeling the con, so I stayed home."

"Well you're SOL buddy, because I never asked if you were 'feeling' the con." Just as Riff said that, they rounded the school building, and one of his large feet went flying off the ground towards the back of Dean's legs.

Anticipating the move, Dean dodged the kick and then quickly moved forward and jabbed with his left arm into Riff's side. The sound of ribs cracking filled the air, but Riff was used to fighting rough and kept going despite the pain he had to be in. Dean had expected him to take at least a couple of seconds to recover, so he was caught off guard when the back of Riff's hand connected with his face.

"Sonuvabitch," Dean muttered, trying to shake off the ringing in his ears.

Right about now, Dean was wishing he'd thought twice before joining up with Riff and his gang. But money had been tight, Dad for some reason not bringing in as much pay from work as he should've been, and Dean had been forced to do something to keep food on the table for his family. If he wasn't such a smart ass with no social skills, he could've gotten a real job, but scamming people was the easier way for Dean, not honest work. Riff and his gang had provided the perfect opportunity, needing someone with Dean's skills in trickery to run their scams. _If I wasn't such a screw up, I wouldn't be in this mess. _

There was no time for second guessing his choice though, as Riff brought up his foot again and aimed it towards Dean's stomach. Springing into action, Dean moved his own foot quicker, and caught Riff in between the legs. The huge guy tried to keep fighting, but he slowed down, which made it easier for Dean to land a few hits to Riff's kidneys. After a few well placed, but weak blows to Dean's stomach , Riff finally toppled to the ground in defeat.

"Sorry that's how it had to happen, Riff," Dean said, crouching down so the gang leader could hear him easier. "But I know a good con from a bad one, and no one's going to force me into a bad one."

Lifting himself up, Dean began to walk away while he called over his shoulder," Let me know about your next set up, maybe I'll join."

_Frickin' waste of time, _Dean mentally grumbled and then rubbed at his sore face. When he came back to the front of the school, no other students were insight, pointedly not Sam and his friends. _Damn it! _Dean had yet again missed his chance to check on his little brother. He was also late for class, and would have to get a lecture from his teacher.

"This is just damn peachy."

-SN-

"God, I hate school," Dean said with an exhausted sigh after dropping onto the bus seat beside his brother.

Sam looked to be just as worn out as him, not even noticing the swelling on Dean's face. Dean had been hoping to interrogate Sam while he was cornered in the bus, but now, looking at the teen's gaunt face and drooping lids that hung over unfocused eyes, he was thinking differently. His first priority was always to take care of Sammy, and damn did he look like he needed taken care of.

"You okay Sammy?" Dean asked, unable to keep a hint of urgency out of his voice.

"I'm o … "Sam had to stop to let out a wracking cough. "Okay."

Aside from his hacking up a lung, Dean also noticed something in Sam's hand once he pulled it away from his mouth which definitely shouldn't have been there. "Sam, is that blood?" He demanded while leaning closer to his kid brother and grabbing the bloodied hand before Sam could wipe away the evidence.

"Yeah," Sam answered weakly, not meeting Dean's intense gaze.

"Yeah?" Dean mimicked, surprised Sam was so calm. "When the hell did this start?"

Sam's glassy hazel eyes looked passed Dean to the other occupants of the bus who were starting to stare. "A couple days ago. Don't worry; I know what's going on," his voice started fading and he had to force out," Tell you more at home, sleep now." And without further warning, Sam slumped against the window falling right to sleep.

"Shit, don't worry? You can't even stay awake, kid!" Dean exclaimed softly, attempting to not draw any more attention.

_How could I not have noticed this a couple days ago? _Sure, Dean admitted he'd been a little distracted by Faye and Riff's gang, and the little bit of bar hopping he'd been doing, but enough so that he didn't see his brother's health slipping away into such a dismal state? The downward spiral must have been going on for a while.

Disappointment in himself weighed on Dean during the rest of the bus ride until his and Sam's stop, when he had to help his little brother get off. Sam was leaning on him for support as they walked towards their house, and Dean wished God would just strike him down now. _It'll be worse when Dad finds out I let Sam get like this._

"Come on, little brother, not much farther," Dean coaxed as he led Sam up their drive way.

When they'd stumbled through the door and sat down on the couch, Sam shot Dean an appreciative smile. "Thanks. I didn't know the symptoms would progress so quickly."

"Symptoms of what?" Dean questioned, feeling very uninformed.

"The symptoms of the life draining," Sam said easily, as if it wasn't his life being drained away. "I must not have much time left, maybe a week or two at the most."

"What are you talking about Sammy? You're not making any sense."

The fourteen year old took a deep breath and Dean could tell he was trying to gather his thoughts. "I think there's a Nord in Columbus, an old pagan goddess that could alter time and anything that happened in the past," As he explained, Sam pulled one of his larger library books out of a pile. "Some of these Nords do good deeds, maybe alter time to let someone show up to work on time when they truly should have been late, stuff like that, but others are bad. The evil Nords tell a person they can change the past for them for a small price."

"And this small price is really sucking some random person's life away?" Dean asked with a hint of disbelief.

"Not a random person, someone they care a lot about. Depending on the person this could lead to their own death or the death of their wife, whoever is most important." Sam paused to let out a wheezy cough, which fortunately didn't have any bloody leftovers. "The life draining causes what appears to be symptoms of tuberculosis, a lung disease, but can't be treated."

A light bulb flashed in Dean's mind. "Like those locals who keep dying at the hospital."

"Yeah, like them."

Dean chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "So someone who cares a lot about you must have made a deal with this Nord." Sam gave Dean a pointed look at his words. "What, you think it was me? No way little brother, I don't mess with time." When he glanced down at the picture of the beautiful goddess that was supposed to be a Nord, Dean couldn't help but add," Although, I wouldn't mind messing around with her."

Sam gave a half felt eye roll. "Can we stay focused, my life is being drained, y'know."

"Right, right." Dean tensed, making himself serious. "So what do we have to do?"

"First, we have to find the Nord. Then we have to – "Sam broke off to let out a long, painful sounding cough that left him panting for air. Despite that, he continued on," Hafta kill her by destroying her clock."

"Her clock?" Dean asked, a slight hint of disbelief in his voice.

Sam nodded, a seriousness present that it almost made Dean forget his brother was only fourteen. "Yeah, it's what she uses to control time and it's the only thing linking her to earth."

"What kind of clock will I be looking for?"

"That's the problem; it could be any clock inside her house."

Dean shook his head. "Of course. And where's her house?"

Sam gave a weak smile. "I don't know yet."

"You don't know yet?" Dean asked, eyebrows furrowed. "How are you going to find out if you're so sick?"

"I have someone helping me," Sam said, his smile turning into a mysterious smirk.

Dean gave his brother a suspicious look. "Who?"

"That would be me."

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**A/N: **Sorry for such a long wait! But you guys all inspired me when I check the stats on this story and found it has 25 alerts! Keep rocking - maybe by dropping a review? No pressure, of course! Thanks for reading, and let me know what you thought of the chapter!


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